The Secret Heart
by PiperFox
Summary: AU Paire: "My heart was a secret, even from you . . . especially from you." Brought together by fate, broken apart by hate. Will destiny find a way to bring them back together? Peter goes to tell Claire he loves her and ...
1. Volume One: With Every Heart Beat

Title: The Secret Heart

**Disclaimer: I own none of the familiar characters; they belong to the Network & the show's creators etc. Anything else might just be of my own creation.**

**Important Author's Note: Apologies for any inconstancies with either the timeline of existing events or American stuff (I tried). **

* * *

**Volume One: With Every Heart Beat**

Nathan Petrelli shifted uncomfortably as he pretended to stretch his legs in the back seat of the black town car. He gently tapped his fingers on the leather arm rest. Next to him a motionless figure stared darkly out the window.

Nathan cleared his throat, as he studied his brother. Peter, a younger more honest version of himself, had said nothing the entire journey. His handsome face awash with unhappiness.

Peter felt his brother's eyes on him. He suddenly relaxed into a smile, but his soft brown eyes betrayed the deadness inside.

"What?"

"Nothing." Nathan let him continue sulking for a few more minutes before he could stand it no longer.

"You need to sort this once and for all."

"What?" Peter feigned ignorance.

"You and Claire. This thing between you. It's been going on for years."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I don't? Why is it that she's in town and suddenly your mood changes dramatically?"

Peter fidgeted, and flicked his eyes away.

"And when she's not around you sink into a deep depression," Nathan continued.

"It's not like that."

"No? Peter, you are so hung up on this girl."

"So what?" Peter's eyes narrowed. "She has her own life these days and I have mine."

"Some life Peter, you've barely dated in months."

"My fiancée left me, remember? I'm allowed a mourning period."

Nathan threw his hands up in an exasperated fashion. "But I'm talking about Claire. Do you love Claire, Pete?"

Peter swallowed, hard. _"With every heart beat." _

"It's time to be honest with yourself. Honest with _her_."

Peter hesistated. "Even after everything that has happened wouldn't a relationship with Claire still be considered _illegal?_"

"When two people love each other the way you do, the crime is not being together."

A flicker of emotion crossed Peter's face, a sudden passionate hope in his eyes.

"Tell her or you'll always regret it," Nathan said quietly.

"I can't."

"You have to. I'm not going to just sit by and let this happen again." Nathan called to the driver, "Max ... We're taking a little detour on the way home. To the Four Seasons."

"Yes Sir," Max replied.

"This is crazy. She's with Victor now." Peter knew arguing with Nathan was pointless.

"If you love her, you have to fight for her."

"We've been down this road before. What makes you think this time will be different?"

"Because this time it can be different, Pete. Just don't let your foolish pride get in the way, again."

* * *

Peter gathered his thoughts as he rode the elevator towards Claire's floor. _"You can do this."_ However, the moment he reached her room his confidence was gone. He stood, stung with regrets, trying in vain to get the courage to knock when the door swung open. Her familiar face took his breath away.

"Peter?" Claire's beautiful green eyes searched his own. "Is everything okay? I thought you weren't coming to see me and yet now you're here." Without hesitation she placed herself gently in his arms for an affectionate hug.

"I ... ah ... can I come in?" Peter said, as he awkwardly removed his arms from around her.

"Sure." Claire led the way through into the elegant sitting room of the hotel suite.

Peter looked around nervously. "Is Victor here?"

"No, he is down at the bar having a drink with a colleague. I was just finishing my packing before we fly out tomorrow."

Peter nodded.

"Why are you here?" She stared at him closely.

"I came to say goodbye."

A quizzical look crossed her face. "Goodbye? You just got here ... I know I'm leaving tomorrow, but ..." her voice trailed off.

"I know, but I really need to talk to you."

Claire picked up a cream blouse and started folding it into a nearby suitcase. "Okay," she said, a little hesitant about what was to come.

"Claire," Peter began. "I ... ah ... I ..." He tripped over his words again.

Claire stopped folding. "What?"

"Please don't leave New York," he blurted out suddenly. "Stay another few days."

Claire gave a soft chuckle. "Stay in New York? Peter, I've got deadlines. Victor has clients to meet in Paris."

"I miss you."

Claire's heart froze at his words. He met her gaze and she instantly feared and longed for his next words.

"I'm ... I've fallen in love with you, Claire. "

Claire blinked and stared hard at him for a few seconds. "Oh Pete," she gasped.

Peter was silent.

"Oh my God." She paced around, nervously fiddling with a piece of clothing. "Peter ... this is ..."

"I know. I'm sorry, this is crazy. I'm crazy for even coming here. It was Nathan's idea," Peter rambled.

"Nathan?"

"Um, yeah."

"He knows?"

"He kind of brought me here."

"I don't know what to say." His face blurred and she quickly dropped her eyes to the floor.

Peter found his confidence again. He moved closer to her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders willing her to look at him. She lifted her green eyes back to his. "It's the truth, Claire. I don't think I've ever been more honest with myself, or with you. I'm in love with you, and I ... please stay," he said firmly. "Stay and be with me."

As Peter studied her face, every inch of his being hoped her answer would be yes. Claire could hardly believe this was happening. At one time, this was all she ever wanted yet even now she hesistated.

"Pete," she softly began her reply. "After all that's passed between us ..."

* * *

**AN: Edited 12/11.**


	2. Volume Two: Getting to Know You

**Volume Two: Getting to Know You**

Summer 2007:

**Claire:**

_I was almost seventeen when I left the only home I'd ever known. After everything that had happened since my sixteenth birthday, it was still the single most daunting experience in my life up to that point. I was moving across the country to live with my biological father, Congressman Nathan Petrelli, and his family in New York. My adoptive Mom cried when I left. I think she believed he was just using me as some sort of pawn in his political game. Deep down I knew his invite was genuine. I needed to be with them. They were like me, special, and I couldn't throw the opportunity away. I can still remember the nervous emptiness that filled my stomach as I waited in the Airport Lounge. They were late. _

**Peter:**

_It all started when Claire was given an offer to move in with Nathan and Heidi in the year after the events at Kirby Plaza. Much to everyone's surprise she accepted and moved to New York shortly before her seventeenth birthday. It never occurred to me at the time, but it must have taken a great deal of courage to move across the country to live with family she barely knew. And me? Well, I was looking forward to getting to know my niece better. I still remember the strange feeling in my throat as I searched the crowded airport for her face. We were late. _

"The flight landed 30 minutes ago. She should be here somewhere," Nathan said as his eyes scanned the bustling crowds at La Guardia Airport.

"There," Peter said, pointing her out. The crowds parted and she appeared. She looked younger than he remembered. Her eyes were full of innocence as they landed on her biological father and uncle. A relieved smile crossed her face as she started walking awkwardly towards them, suitcase in hand. Peter couldn't help, but return her smile with his own lop-sided grin.

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten," she giggled nervously.

"Forgotten? We wouldn't do a thing like that would we Pete?" Nathan joked.

Claire gave Nathan a sideways look before she turned to Peter.

She stood, nervously searching his eyes before she wrapped her arms around him. An overwhelmed look crossed his face before he relaxed and hugged her back.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"Me too." Peter released her. "Welcome to New York, _Texas._"

Claire grinned as she stepped backwards. She caught Nathan's eye and they hugged awkwardly.

"I'm so pleased you decided to come, Claire." Nathan retrieved the suitcase from beside her. "Heidi is looking forward to seeing you again ... and so are the boys."

"Great," Claire exclaimed. "So am I."

The car ride to the Petrelli Estate in Hyde Park was long. Nathan was on his cell phone for most of the trip, but Claire was satisfied by the fact that he had made the trip to collect her in person. She stayed quiet for most of the journey, observing the city that filled the window to her left. She had visited New York before, but now she was here to live. Her stomach churned and her eyes were wide, as she was lost in her thoughts. Peter watched her closely during the trip.

"Long flight?" Peter's voice interrupted her thoughts.

Claire flicked her eyes back towards Peter. "Hmm ... oh yes, it was."

He sensed her uneasiness. "You need not worry about Heidi. She really is excited to see you again." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "And, Mom's in Paris. She won't be back for a week. That should give you a chance to settle in before she gets a chance to grill you."

She nodded, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She smiled to herself as she saw the city lights behind her eyelids. Today was the beginning of a new chapter in her life.

Claire stepped from the car, her shoes making a soft crunching sound on the shingle driveway. The Petrelli house was imposing and appeared larger than she remembered.

"Claire!" Simon Petrelli rushed down the steps to greet his half-sister.

"Simon." Claire smiled, remembering how her two young half brothers has become quite attached to her. Simon thrust his arms around her and squeezed her tightly.

Monty Petrelli was not far behind his brother, but preferred a more casual approach to greeting Claire.

Behind them, the silhouetted figure of Heidi Petrelli was standing at the entrance to the house. Claire managed to pry Simon from her waist and climbed the steps until she was face to face with her father's wife. They eyed each other closely for a moment, before Heidi pulled her close in a welcoming hug. Once they parted, Heidi kept a protective arm around her new daughter and began to lead her inside. Meanwhile, Peter, who had refused assistance from their chauffeur, was trying to pull Claire's suitcase from the trunk of the car.

"What have you got in here?" he exclaimed. "Gold bricks?"

"In this market? I hope so," Nathan commented.

Claire stopped and turned to face Peter. "What? Can't you handle a little suitcase," she mocked.

Heidi laughed softly. "I'm so glad you've come," Heidi whispered in her ear. "I was beginning to feel out numbered."

"Very funny, _Texas. _You know full well I'm not allowed to use any . . . _assistance._" He enjoyed referred to his niece by her former state of residence.

"You're going to have to stop calling her that, Pete. She's going to become a real New Yorker now." Nathan kissed his wife on the cheek and followed his sons inside.

"Maybe, but she'll always be the cheerleader from _Texas, _to me."

"Don't listen to him, Claire. In New York, you can be whoever you want to be," Heidi encouraged.

* * *

**Peter: **_Claire adjusted to her new life quickly. Her first week was uneventful until, of course, my Mother returned to New York. Our first family dinner was memorable for several reasons. It was Claire's seventeenth birthday._

"Hyde Park High," Nathan repeated, taking a sip of wine.

"A Public School?"

"Mother, Claire has decided she wants to continue with her high school education within the Public School System," Nathan explained.

"Public School? She's only seventeen how on earth can she be expected to understand the implications of a decision like this." Angela Petrelli talked about her granddaughter as if she wasn't there. "She's a senior this year. You need to be thinking about colleges, Nathan."

Claire watched silently, as her Father and Grandmother swapped comments in the heated argument, unsure if she should speak up.

"It was Claire's decision. It was her choice to come and live with us here in New York, so I trust in her ability to choose where she spends her senior year at school."

"That is ridiculous Nathan, you're her Father and you should decide. You're a member of Congress; she could go to some of the finest schools in New York."

Claire was trying to tune out the banter when a hand reached for hers. She looked up and her eyes met Peter's. His hand was warm and reassuring. She squeezed it gently and was comforted when he squeezed hers in return. Peter knew better than to get in the middle of a conversation like this. Too many times he had borne the brunt of their oppressive opinions.

"Claire?"

Claire snapped back to the conversation and realised her grandmother was speaking to her. "Oh, um, sorry."

"Your grandmother wants to know if you're sticking to your decision." Nathan gave her a persuasive look.

"Yes. I am. I want everything to be as normal as possible and I think attending Hyde Park High is the way to do that," she replied confidently.

"My own granddaughter attending a public school. I'll never hear the end of it." Angela Petrelli threw her hands up in defeat.

"Mom, it's not the end of the world," Nathan said softly.

"Stubborn. Just like your grandfather." Angela looked down her nose at Claire, before she stood up and turned to Nathan. "She's a Petrelli alright, no doubt about that."

* * *

"Hi." Peter found Claire sitting on an old park bench in the garden later that evening.

"Just taking a breather," she explained.

"So, you're seventeen." Peter commented as he sat down beside her.

"Yep."

"I remember back when I was seventeen ..." he joked putting on an old man's voice.

Claire turned to face him. "Did they argue like that? When you were seventeen?"

"Them? Argue? Oh, that was nothing. Wait until you really do something wrong. At least this time you had Nathan sticking up for you."

"Yeah, I didn't see that one coming. After everything that happened, I guessed he would see things differently."

Peter nodded. "I think the events of last spring changed Nathan more than he'll admit. She doesn't seem to have as much hold over him as she used to."

"You're not as different from them as you might think, Peter." Claire had a wistful look in her eyes. "You all have this passion for your family, your loved ones. But, you all just have very different ways of showing it."

"Different. Now there's a good word to describe the Petrelli family."

"Be careful or I'll let them in on your secret."

"Secret?"

"Yes," Claire lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned towards him. "That you're not the black sheep everyone thinks you are."

Peter laughed. "I'm glad you're here to keep me in check."

"No problem, _Uncle._"

"God. Don't call me that. I'm only seven years older than you."

"Sure thing, _Gramps."_

Peter groaned and narrowed his eyes. "You're really starting to get on my nerves, _Texas." _

Claire got up and started walking back towards the house, before calling back over her shoulder. "You know that name doesn't bother me."

"Fine. I'll have to find one that does ..." He paused for dramatic effect. "Damn it!"

Claire giggled as he visible struggled to think of an annoying nickname for her.

"You'll keep, Tex ... you'll keep," he yelled before watching her head back to the house.

**Peter: **_Seventeen years old and my niece. _

* * *

**AN: Edited 12/11.**


	3. Volume Two: Friends with Power

**Volume Two: Friends with Power**

Fall 2007:

**Claire: **_My friendship with Peter grew steadily over the next few weeks. He just kept on surprising me with the depth of his personality. The more I learnt about him, the more I liked him. _

Claire was relaxing on a plush white three seater sofa with a magazine, when Heidi walked in. She was wearing a stunning red knee length dress.

"What do you think?" Heidi did a little spin.

"The dress is lovely Heidi, it looks great on you."

Heidi smiled. "Thanks. I'm a little nervous … public appearances always have that effect on me."

Claire nodded. "Knock 'em dead."

Heidi headed back upstairs to finish getting ready. Claire settled back to her magazine as another figure appeared.

"What are you still doing here?" Claire was a little surprised to see Peter. "It's Saturday night … no hot date?"

Peter shrugged. "Babysitting. I normally watch the boys when Nathan and Heidi go out."

"Uncle Duties, huh?"

"Something like that." Peter flopped on the sofa next to her.

"I'm seventeen, I could handle the babysitting."

"I guess they figured you still need babysitting, so they had to get someone more mature to help."

Claire looked at him sideways for a second. "I don't need baby-" she paused as she recognised the grin on his face. "Peter!" She punched him lightly on the arm.

"Ouch! They wanted me to keep you company is all. Besides, they like to know where I am 24/7 ... after, well, _you know_."

Heidi reappeared with Nathan on her arm.

"Peter," Nathan acknowledged his brother.

Peter nodded and stood up. "Heidi, you look amazing as always." He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Thank you," she smiled with confidence now that Nathan was at her side.

"We'll be home late," Nathan told them as he led Heidi towards the front door.

"Okay. Have a good time. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Peter joked.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do?" Claire repeated after her Father and Step-mother had disappeared.

Peter shrugged. "I know how can I say that when I'm an unemployed loser who lives with his brother."

Claire stifled a giggle. "Could be worse, you could be living with your mother!"

"True." Peter's eyes were wide and he visibly shuddered at the thought. "After the whole exploding thing, I think she thought it better that Nathan kept an eye on me."

"You're not really unemployed though ... are you?"

"No, not really. I've had a few jobs through an agency," Peter explained.

Claire didn't quite get it. "So if you're still working then why are you still living here?"

Peter thought for a minute. "I like it, I guess, being part of the family."

Claire nodded.

"And, you're here now. No reason to leave," Peter said before changing the subject. "So what's for dinner, Tex?"

"Nathan gave Rena the night off so ... um, pizza I guess."

"Not in the mood for pizza."

"What then?"

"I might just have to cook." Peter winked at her and then wandered off towards the kitchen.

Claire stood there with her mouth open, unsure of whether she should follow him or not. Curiosity got the better of her and twenty minutes later the Petrelli kitchen was filled with an array of irresistible smells. She was sitting on a barstool watching intently as Peter created a creamy pasta dish with spinach, chicken and bacon.

"Wow, I'm impressed Peter." She planted her elbows on the bench top and rested her head thoughtfully on her hands.

"What's there to be impressed about? It's just a little pasta dish."

Claire made a face. "You haven't seen my severe lack of ability when it comes to cuisine yet. Trust me you're impressive."

Peter laughed. "You must get that from Nathan ... but don't worry, now you're here I'll be able to teach you."

"Really?" She sounded excited.

"Sure, why not? Here, try this." Peter held out a small wooden spoon with a creamy white sauce on it.

"Ohhhhmmmmmmmm." Claire made small noises of ecstasy as she let the taste swirl around her mouth. "Wow."

Peter smiled proudly. "It's ready then. Will you help the boys wash up please?"

"I will do anything for some more of that pasta!"

**Peter: **_After that night, Claire and I spent many hours together in that kitchen, creating havoc and delicious dishes. It was just one of the many things we did together during that first year._

* * *

**Claire:**_ It was astounding to me, how quickly I settled in to life with the Petrellis. The first few months went quickly. I started my senior year at school and made friends easily. One with whom I became almost inseparable, when I wasn't with Peter, of course. Her name was Becca and our other friends said we looked almost identical. I can see how they thought that, same height, blonde hair, eye colour one shade apart and the same stupid dimples when we smiled. On the inside, no one knew how different I really was. Everything, that first year, was exactly what I had been hoping for. I had a loving family, friends and some normality to my existence._

* * *

**Peter: **_It was an assumed agreement between Nathan, Claire and I that we weren't to actively use our powers since suspicions had been raised by the events at Kirby Plaza the previous year. However, one night, curiosity got the better of us. _

"It was a dark and stormy night ..." Peter said, menacingly.

"Quit it, Peter," Claire hissed and waved the torch in his direction. "This basement gives me the creeps."

"Yes. It must be in the building code somewhere that fuse boxes are always located in the deepest darkest corner of old houses."

"What?"

"It's so that the lovely young damsel can easily be put in a position where the bad guy can stalk her in the darkness."

"Right," Claire said, unimpressed.

Suddenly, something impacted against the tiny basement window with a thud.

Claire squealed and jumped at the noise. Her leg banged against something cold and hard in the darkness. "Ow," she cried out, dropping the touch and forcing the deep black to return.

"Just a tree branch," Peter laughed and turned towards the sound of her voice in the darkness. "Did that really hurt or is saying 'ow' just like a reflex for you now?"

"No. It really does hurt just not for long. But, don't you know this? I mean, you've got my ability too."

"Yeah, but I have to concentrate to use it. It seems somewhat automatic for you."

"Got it." Peter flicked the switch and after a few seconds the lights flickered and came back on.

Claire was squatting on the floor holding her shin and when she moved her hand, Peter could see a small skin tear. After a few moments it disappeared before his eyes.

"Cool. My turn," Peter said, looking around for something to injure himself with. After a few seconds he spotted a pair of rusted old hedge clippers.

Claire looked at him in disbelief. "You're not ... are you?"

"Yeah, why not? I don't know if it'll work ... it has been awhile." Peter turned away from her.

"Peter ... you know what Nath-" Her sentence was broken by a hair-raising scream from Peter. "Peter?" She sprang from the floor and moved to his location.

He turned to reveal a bloodied stump where his left hand should be.

"Oh my God, Peter ... Are you-" The grin on his face stopped her from further expressing her concern. "You bastard!"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself."

Claire made a face. "This is why I hate Halloween."

"Aww. C'mon Tex. It was just a little joke."

"For you maybe," Claire said grumpily. "You had this little power cut stunt planned all along didn't you?"

"No, I swear. It was just a coincidence."

"Sure it was." Claire looked at him suspiciously. "Okay, so now we know you can still use my ability, what about the other ones?"

Peter looked serious for a moment. "Aww, Claire I really don't know if we should be messing around like this."

"So it's alright for you to bend the rules, but not me?"

"It's complicated."

"Whatever, Peter. Clearly, you've managed to 'master' my ability without even trying; you must be able to show me more of your repertoire."

Peter frowned at her.

"Please."

"You know begging is not a good look for you."

"Conformist."

Together they made their way back upstairs. Claire stepped through the door into the kitchen. She turned around to say something to Peter only to discover he had disappeared.

"Peter? ... Pete?" she called. "This isn't funny." She heard a noise behind her and she quickly spun around, but there was no one there. She put her hands on her hips. "I know you're there, bright spark, I can smell your aftershave."

Peter materialised in front of her. "Bright spark huh? Watch this ..." Peter send a small white spark of electricity across the kitchen hitting a container of utensils on the way. They watched, wide eyed as the intense heat caused a wooden spoon to burst into flames and a spatula to melt.

"Oh shit, Peter!" Claire gasped, rushing forward to put out the fire.

"Oops," was all Peter could manage to say.

Claire thrust the smoldering kitchen items in the sink and immersed them in cold water. "Nice one." Claire gave him an angry stare before looking back and giving him a grin. "That was so cool. Where did you get that one from?"

"I have my secrets." Peter grabbed his nose. "Yuck, it stinks in here. We're never going to get the smell out of here before everyone gets home."

"No kidding," Claire started laughing. "We'll just have to tell them I was cooking."

Peter couldn't help but join in on her contagious laughter. They spent the next hour tidying and filling the burnt air with a floral fragrance. Afterwards, they look a break on the roof.

"The view up here is amazing." Claire had an excited expression on her face.

"Yeah I know. I come up here a lot."

"You do? What about not using your powers?"

"I climb."

"Yeah right."

"Okay, I don't climb. But, now you know my little secret, I'm not the only one bending the rules."

"Partners in crime," Claire agreed. A moment of silence passed between them before Claire could no longer contain her curiosity. "Seriously, you've been using all this time?"

Peter smirked proudly, but said nothing.

* * *

**AN: Edited 12/11.**


	4. Volume Two: Winter Hearts

**Volume Two: Winter Hearts**

Winter 2008:

**Peter: **_Shortly after we welcomed in 2008 Claire convinced me to join her on keep fit New Year's resolution. _

"C'mon Claire," Peter called through her closed door.

"Just a minute."

Peter sighed. "We're just going for a run you know ... it's not the prom or anything."

The door to her room flung open and an energetic Claire bounced out. "Very funny! I'm ready." She was wearing blue sweatpants and a matching jacket. Her long blonde hair was tucked up into a black beanie.

Together they began jogging at a leisurely pace down the long shingle driveway before turning right and heading up the snow covered street. They pounded the pavement in a silent unison, their warm breath visible in the chilly morning air. They continued on their usual route towards the local park when Peter noticed Claire looking at him strangely.

"What?"

"So when are you gonna get a new hair style?"

"Not this again ... when are you gonna quit mocking my hairstyle?"

"When you realise it's no longer the nineties's and chop off those ridiculous bangs."

Peter reached over and grabbed the beanie from her head causing her long blond hair to cascade down around her shoulders.

"Hey ..." Claire cried out as her frizzy hair was revealed.

He smirked at her. "Someone didn't brush their hair this morning."

Claire stopped running and held out her hand. "Alright, give it back."

"Not until you promise to leave my hair alone." He jogged on the spot a few metres in front of her.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Fine. I promise."

"I don't believe you."

"Give it back."

"Not until you say it like you mean it."

"Grow up, Peter." The irritation in her voice was clear.

"Oh, a bit cranky this morning?"

Claire clenched her fists and turned around to walk away before she had a better idea. She quickly reached down for a handful of snow. She carefully bundled the soft white snow into a harden ball and turned back towards Peter.

"What are you gonna do?" He antagonized her. "Throw that at me?"

"I was thinking about it." Claire worked it between her hands.

"Go ahead," he said confidently. "You'll never hit me."

Claire hurled the snowball towards Peter. He moved to dodge it, but as soon as he saw it leave her hand he realised her aim was off.

"Missed me ... your arm is-" Peter stopped mid sentence as a chain reaction from the misaimed snowball caused a mini avalanche of snow to descend on him from the tree above. He stood there gasping for breath as the icy snow melted against his face.

Claire giggled at the sight of him. "Now that's an improvement."

"You are so dead, Tex," Peter threatened as he wiped snow from his eyes.

"I'm so scared." Claire watched him furiously gather up snow.

"You should be. I will never surrender." Peter sent a snowball through the air and watched as Claire dodged it effortlessly.

"Is that all you've got?"

Peter replied by sending a quick fire succession of snow missiles and this time Claire was not so lucky. She squealed and tried to run for cover. She made it to a line of trees near the edge of the park and took refuge. She could hear the sound of snowballs impacting on the tree and ground behind her. After the few moments the barrage ceased and Peter went silent. Carefully, Claire edged closer to the left side of the tree and slowly peeked around. Peter was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn," she muttered as she started turning back.

"Give up yet?" Peter suddenly appeared next to her.

Claire gave a startled scream. "No fair, that's cheating!"

"What?" Peter pretended he didn't know what she was talking about.

"You know." Claire narrowed her eyes at him.

"I don't cheat." Peter suddenly caught her off guard by lifting her off her feet and into his arms. "What do I have to do to make you understand?" He started walking back to the footpath.

"Put me down!"

Peter ignored her and continued walking.

Claire started struggling in his arms, but he held her tight. "Put me down!"

"Okay." Peter stopped and promptly let her go, straight into a large snowdrift, before he casually walked off again.

Claire cried out, but her landing was soft. She could hardly believe what he has just done.

"Pete!" she yelled at the rapidly disappearing figure.

He stopped and turned to face her. "You give up yet?"

Claire thought for a few seconds. "Okay ..." She held her hands up. "Okay, I give up. Just come and get me out of here."

Peter strolled back and held out his hand, Claire took it and he began pulling her to her feet. Suddenly, Claire pulled back forcing Peter to overbalance. For a moment he struggled to remain on his feet before he teetered and fell into the snow beside her. Quick as lightening she rolled over and planted herself firmly on his chest. There was no escape.

"Never trust a girl," she giggled as she held up a handful of the white powder. "Eat snow."

* * *

Nathan paced back and forth behind his office desk rhythmically tapping a small newspaper in his hands. Peter and Claire sat on the other side with bemused expressions on their face.

After another few minutes, Nathan finally broke the tense silence.

"How many times do I have to remind you, that this family has an image to maintain?"

Claire looked across at Peter and shrugged.

"We're not quite sure what you're getting at Nathan." Peter was genuinely confused.

Nathan rolled his eyes and thrust the newspaper down in front of them. Claire stifled a giggle as they both leaned forward to peer at the images on the front page.

"**Congressman's Brother and Daughter enjoy romp in the snow"**

"How do you explain this?"

"Slow news day?" Peter offered.

"Pete! This is no laughing matter." Nathan's face took on a deep shade of scarlet.

"Nathan, I can explain," Peter began.

"I don't want an explanation!" Nathan's tone was stern.

Peter and Claire glanced sideways at each other.

"What exactly do you want us to say, Nathan?" Claire asked.

"Something ... anything that might explain why my brother and daughter were caught acting like pair of school kids."

"But I am a-" Claire protested before another of Nathan's angry looks silenced her.

Peter put his hand to his mouth to cover a wry grin.

"Peter! You should know better ... and Claire, well, I had hoped you were more mature than this. You've got to be more careful. Not just about this, but, well ..._ you know._"

"But we are being-"

"No, you're not. Not careful enough." Nathan's eyes flashed with anger. "You think I don't know about your little games?"

"Games?" Claire echoed.

"Practicing with your powers."

"Oh," Claire mouthed.

"What if Heidi catches you? Or, God forbid ... the boys?"

"I'm sorry, Nathan," Peter choked on his words. "I guess we weren't thinking."

"Me too," Claire added.

"You're damn right you weren't thinking." Nathan frowned at them again. "I've got to go." He checked his watch, before pointing at each of them. "We'll continue this later ... You concentrate on school and you ..." He pointed at Peter and suppressed a smile. "Try not to blow up again."

The second the door closed behind Nathan, Peter and Claire collapsed in a fit of giggles.

"Oh my God ... did you ... see his face?" Claire could barely get the words out.

Peter nodded and put on a serious tone. "You should know better."

Claire laughed hysterically until small tears appeared in her eyes. Together they laughed uncontrollably for a few minutes before Claire got a suddenly serious look on her face. Gingerly, she leant over and picked up the newspaper.

"Oh no," she said with a low groan.

"What?"

"My hair!" she squeaked.

Peter caught sight of the photographs and began howling with laughter again.

"Peter!" Claire turned around and hit him gently with the paper.

Peter couldn't contain himself. "I'm ... sorry, but-" he tried in vain to explain himself as Claire started pelting him with the rolled up newspaper.

* * *

_Claire: I had on my first date on Valentines Day. His name was Liam, a senior like me, and according to my friends, something of a catch at our High School. I remember giggling nervously when he gave me the invitation. Looking back I guess it was a pretty big deal, but it was really just me, a boy and dinner in a new city. _

Claire stared at the image of the stunning young blonde woman in front of her. Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered the image was her own. Her long blonde hair had been straightened and styled to elegantly frame her glowing face. She wore a slimming knee length black skirt and cream blouse. There was a quick knock at the door, before Heidi entered.

Claire turned to greet her and smiled shyly. "Hi."

"Claire, you look beautiful."

"Thank you."

Heidi was dressed for a romantic dinner with Nathan. She walked in and seated herself on the edge of Claire's bed. "We were going to save this for your prom, but Nathan decided you could use it tonight," She explained as she revealed the slim black box in her hand and passed it to Claire.

Claire gasped as she opened the box to reveal a dazzling silver and diamond necklace. "Wow. It's beautiful."

"Here. Let me." Heidi took the necklace and fastened it around Claire's neck.

Claire looked at her reflection again before turning towards Heidi with shining eyes. "This is too much."

"No. It's not. You're family, Claire."

"I wouldn't even be standing here if it wasn't for you," Claire acknowledged. "Thank you."

Heidi smiled as she recalled Nathan's reaction to his daughter asking to go on a date. "He can be a bit over protective sometimes. He just really cares about you."

"I know my Dad was exactly the same."

There was another knock at the door.

"Come in," Claire said anxiously.

Peter popped his head around the door. "Liam's here. You might wanna speed things up a bit before Nathan can begin the interrogation."

Claire laughed softly. "Right. Thanks again, Heidi." She stood up to follow Peter.

"You look great," Peter complimented her as they made there was downstairs.

"Thanks," Claire took her jacket and scarf from his hands. "This is weird," she whispered. "Everyone's being really helpful ... I mean it's great, a bit unnecessary, but great. I feel like I'm under scrutiny or something. I'm surprised Angela isn't here."

"She couldn't make it." His joke calmed her nerves.

They found Nathan and Liam waiting in the den. Liam looked relieved to see her.

"Claire," Nathan boomed. "I was just getting to know Liam."

Claire took Liam by the hand and led him towards the door and a hasty exit. "Thanks, Nathan."

"Home by midnight." Nathan called after them.

"I know. Have a good night." Claire confirmed as they stepped out into the crisp night air. "Thank God that's over."

Liam's clear blue eyes sparkled and he leaned close to whisper in her ear. "You look beautiful."

_Claire: __That was the beginning of my short and somewhat tempestuous relationship with Liam. _

* * *

**AN: Edited 12/11. **


	5. Volume Two: Cool Me Down

**Volume Two: Cool Me Down**

Spring 2008:

_**Peter: **__Claire continued her relationship with Liam into the Spring of that year. I had to admit they made a handsome couple. He was the son of some rich banking magnate. Once Nathan got used to the idea, it was a match made in heaven. Then, as quickly as they had become an item, all of a sudden it was over. Claire never explained what really happened, but I know it hit her hard. _

Darkness surrounded Peter as he awoke from a dream. He rolled over and glanced at his alarm clock. 2.33 Am. It was a second time this week his sleep had been broken. Restlessly, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. He was drifting back to unconsciousness again, when he heard a muffled cry from next room. He sat up and waited, straining to hear the sound again. After a moment it echoed through his room, this time a little louder and more desperate. _"Claire . . ." _Peter threw the covers back and leapt from his bed. Swiftly, he walked through their joint bathroom and the sobs became louder. He knocked on the door and listened as the noise ceased.

"Claire," he called softly to her. ". . . Can I come in?"

There was movement from behind the door, but she did not answer him.

"Please," he pleaded.

Cautiously, he stepped into her room. It was darkened with shadow, but in the light from the bathroom he searched for her. His attention was drawn to the curtains that framed the door to Claire's rooftop patio. They fluttered gently under the pressure of a delicate breeze.

"Claire?" He moved through the room towards the patio and it was there that he found her. She was sitting, arms folded around her drawn up knees, cloaked in an eerie hue of moonlight. She looked up when he called her name, tears stained on her pretty face.

Silently, he sat beside her and placed an arm protectively around her. She shivered in the night air and gratefully warmed to his embrace. They stayed like that for an eternity.

"It's so hard to breathe," Claire stammered as she inevitably broke the silence between them. "I hate him."

"I don't think that's true Claire . . . I don't think you'd be out here if that was how you truly felt."

Claire glared at him for a moment, before she realised he was just being honest.

"I'm sorry about Liam. I really am. He's an arse, if he can't see what an amazing girl you are." Peter touched her face gently.

Claire screwed up her face and gave another heartrending sob.

"Oh, Claire . . ." The concern was evident on his face. He pulled her protectively into his arms.

"Why is this so hard?" Her voice was muffled against his body. Her tears soaked the collar of his t-shirt as she nuzzled against him. He held her tightly until her body no longer shook with pain.

Peter pulled away slowly, and stared intently in her eyes. "Give it time. Your heart will mend and then one day, you will meet someone who will steal it away again. Only this time, they will give you theirs in return."

She looked at him closely. "Huh?"

Peter chuckled lightly. "It gets better."

"Ugh. I'm so over men at the moment, if fact I think I'll stay away from them for life." The faintest smile crossed her face.

Peter laughed. Her smile comforted him and he knew she would be alright. "What about me? You're not going to swear off me too . . . are you?"

Her smile grew larger and a familiar sparkle returned to her eyes. "Peter, you're family. I'm stuck with you whether I like it or not."

Peter feigned a look of hurt on his face.

"Oh . . . I didn't mean it like that . . . I just meant-"

He smiled. "I know."

She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. He stared at her for a moment before gently tipping his head to rest on hers. "I'm so glad I found you," his voice was barely a whisper.

"Me too," was her reply.

* * *

_**Claire:**__ Sometime in April 2008 New York was hit by a mini heat wave; and heat can do strange things to a person's mind. _

Claire, Becca and Jane returned from a shopping trip early one afternoon. They hurried upstairs to get out of the sticky heat and into their new swimsuits. Peter was doing laps of the sparkling blue pool when they leisurely strolled from the main house.

Peter emerged from the pool in a pair of dark green board shorts to take in the sight of the three young women. His eyes travelled from Jane, who wore a designer silver one piece, to Becca, who wore a festive yellow and blue bikini, to Claire. At almost eighteen, she was positively radiant in a skimpy black bikini. He'd seen her in a bikini before, but her body was leaner and more feminine since the previous summer. Peter swallowed uncomfortably in her presence.

"Hi, Pete," Becca purred in his direction.

"Becca . . . Jane," Peter cheerfully acknowledged Claire's two best friends. "Tex."

"What are you doing here?" Claire asked. "I thought you had a job today."

"Cancelled." He grabbed a towel and gently sponged the drips from his face and upper body. "Can I get you ladies drink?"

All three agreed to the offer, commenting about the sweltering heat. As Claire watched him disappear across the neatly trimmed lawn, she suddenly became aware that Peter was the current topic of conversation between Becca and Jane.

"Hot? Peter? We are talking about the same person here right?" Claire laughed.

Becca nodded. "Oh yeah, he's totally hot."

"Um, okay."

"His toned body, his hands, that cute thing his lip does when he talks . . . oh and don't get me started on his delicious butt. He's fine."

"Can't say I've seen it myself. He's a total geek . . . really." Claire stared incredulously at her friends.

"If you say so Claire, but I wouldn't throw him out of bed," Jane giggled.

"Same here . . ." Becca nodded her agreement. "But right now, I've got some rays to catch if I want to look as good as you, Claire. Damn you and your natural Texan tan."

"Looks aren't everything." Claire said sadly.

"Don't you start that again Claire, he's not worth it."

"I know. I will find love again . . ."

* * *

Claire wandered into the kitchen and found Peter leaning into the fridge. She was suddenly awestruck by the image as she remembered her friends' comments. Peter was shirtless, with one lightly tanned arm resting on the fridge door. Claire was distractedly drawn into the image and found herself checking out him out. She was still lost in her own world when Peter turned and greeted her.

"Claire . . . Claire? . . . Earth to Claire."

Claire regained her focus and realised she was staring directly into his amazing brown eyes.

"Wow."

"Claire?" Peter repeated.

"What? . . . Oh, Peter." Claire turned crimson.

"Diet or regular? . . . You still want a soda right?"

"Of course," she giggled nervously.

"Well?" He held them out in front of her.

"Thanks." Claire didn't move.

"Are you okay, Tex?" Peter looked down at her with a raise eyebrow.

She took a can from him. "Sure, yep, never better." She opened the can, while still looking up at him and squealed when it sprayed an explosive burst of liquid over her.

"Oh crap."

Peter laughed heartily as he reached for a dish cloth. "Here let me"

Claire squealed again and jumped away from him. "No . . . no it's fine."

He tried dabbing her with the cloth again, but she grabbed hold of it.

"I said its fine," she said, giving it a quick tug.

"Let go," he insisted, pulling back.

"No . . ." she raised her voice.

"What's going on in here?" Nathan walked into the sight of his brother and daughter fighting over a dish cloth.

"Nothing!" They said in unison, as the dishcloth fell to the floor.

Claire screwed up her face as she bent to pick the cloth off the floor. Peter decided that retreat was the best option.

"What is up with her?" Nathan asked.

"Must be the heat," Peter whispered as he walked past.

Nathan stared at Claire, then watched as Peter as left the room. Claire was furiously wiping down her top when he looked back again. Nathan just shook his head slowly as he too, walked out.

Claire stopped and looked at the dishcloth for a second. "Oh God," she wailed, gripping the bench and gently banging her forehead against it. "Idiot, idiot, idiot!"

* * *

Claire was sitting on the side of the pool lazily dipping her feet in the cool water when Peter joined her later that evening.

"Hey, Tex."

"Hi," Claire said sheepishly.

"You know you shouldn't spend so much time in the sun . . . does strange things to the mind."

"Ha ha."

"Have Becca and Jane gone home then?"

"Yep." Claire moved her leg through the water in circles. "You really seemed to enjoy their company today," she chuckled.

"Huh?"

She turned and looked at him. "C'mon don't tell me you didn't get off on the attention."

"I was just being friendly."

"They think you're hot, you know that right?"

Peter gave her a sideways look. "17 year old girls finding me attractive, that's irony for ya."

"What?"

"I wasn't exactly pulling all the girls in high school," he explained.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Yeah . . . maybe I should make the most of it . . ." he said wryly.

"Peter!"

"Gotcha!" he laughed until Claire nudged him with her elbow.

"Boys are scum."

"Not all of them." They shared an intense gaze, before Peter looked away. "Simone always said she liked my integrity."

"You don't talk about her much," Claire said quietly.

Peter confirmed her words with his silence.

"You really loved her."

"Yeah." Peter smiled. "I did. She was the first woman I really took a chance with."

"I'm sorry."

"At least I've got options." He grinned.

"Eww, no way, my friends are totally off limits."

"You actually think I'm serious."

"Arrgh," Claire groaned as he laughed at her again. She got up to walk away, but caught Peter off guard and managed to push him into the pool. She stood there looking triumphant as Peter spluttered his way to the surface.

"Just cos you like having me all to yourself."

"Is that so?" she walked to the side of the pool. "Well I-" Claire's words were lost as Peter used his powers to make her fall into the pool.

"That's cheating!" she exclaimed when she reached the surface, but Peter was nowhere to be send. "Oh, you are so dead, Petrelli."

A massive water fight ensued and their laughter echoed across the Petrelli courtyard for the remainder of that sunny spring evening.


	6. Volume Two: Don't Dream It's Over

**Volume Two: Don't Dream It's Over**

_**Peter: **__As the end of Claire's academic year drew to a close she was preparing to go to her Senior Prom. I wanted nothing to do with the whole affair, but somehow I got dragged into it._

"Left, right, left . . ."

"I can't believe Nathan talked me into this," Peter grumbled.

"Right, left, right, left . . ."

"C'mon Pete, you're actually pretty good," Claire reassured him.

"Okay." The Dance Teacher clapped his hands. "Let's count it out this time. "And, one, two, three . . ."

Peter grimaced. "That's not the point Claire; my toes are getting really sore."

Claire stopped dancing and gave him a quick whack on the arm. "One time! How many times do I have to say I'm sorry for standing on your foot, ONE TIME!"

Peter cocked his head to the side. "A few more times should do it."

"You two, over there . . . I don't see dancing . . ." The Dance Teacher glared in their direction.

Hastily, they paired up and began the steps again.

"'Take her dancing' they said . . . Geez . . ." Peter muttered.

"Hey, I didn't exactly ask to be here either." Claire remembered her Grandmothers insistent tone. _"It will be good for you, Claire. It will help you take your mind off that boy."_ "I knew I shouldn't have let everyone talk me into going to this stupid Prom."

"At least you won't have to suffer alone."

"Sorry?"

"Guess who got volunteered to Chaperone."

"Chaperone? At my Prom?" Claire could barely contain herself. "Why?"

"Nathan."

"Oh." Claire let out another giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"I dunno . . . maybe it's the idea of you in a tux . . . at a Prom."

"So?"

Claire shrugged her shoulders. "You're not really a tux kind of guy."

Peter pretended to be offended. "I was going to ask you to Prom, but since you mock me I won't . . . And I'll have you know I look pretty good in a tux."

"Aww, well I'd have to say no anyway. Becca and I are going together."

"Couldn't get a date huh?" His tone was laced with sarcasm as the pressure between them increased.

"No." Claire gave him a fierce look. "It's not like that . . . It just doesn't feel right taking someone else okay . . . Why would you care anyway?"

"I don't," Peter replied defensively.

"No, no, no, no, no." The tension between them was broken by the sharp voice of the Dance Teacher. He strolled swiftly over to them. "This is all wrong. You are both far too rigid. The dance should be light and graceful." He turned to Claire. "Your posture is terrible . . . here." He started adjusting her limbs and torso.

Peter smirked at her.

"_What is up with him today?" She thought angrily. "He's driving me crazy."_

"And you . . ." The Dance Teacher turned to Peter and gave him a thorough dressing down.

Claire ridiculed Peter with her eyes and he scowled.

The Dance Teacher positioned them together again and stood back. "Now all you need to do is channel that intimacy you share and focus it on the dance."

"No." They replied in unison. It was an uneasy reaction to his words.

"It's not . . . I mean we're not . . ." Peter swallowed nervously.

The Dance Teacher peered at them over his glasses for a moment before giving them a knowing smile. "Friends share intimacy too."

* * *

_**Claire: **__Despite our misgivings, both Peter and I enjoyed our dancing lessons together. I had to admit Angela was right; the preparations for Prom did take my mind off Liam. It also provided a way for Peter and I to become closer than ever. It was about that time that something changed in our relationship. It was only subtle at first, but something deeper was emerging. I tried ignoring the thoughts and feelings that found their way into my head. At first, I put it down to my general lack of trust in anyone, but Peter. Then I blamed it on teenage hormones, my powers, anything to stay away from the truth. _

Claire thrust her fist angrily into her pillow as a multitude of thoughts whirled around in her mind. "This is about all I can take," she muttered into the darkness. _"My dreams are the only place I can go to escape this world." _Sleepless nights were becoming common at the Petrelli Estate and Claire was not the only one.

Peter was also awake in the next room. He was stretched diagonally across his bed, sheets tangled about his legs. His muscular torso heaved as he let out yet another large sigh. "Damn." He got up and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He retrieved some items from the fridge and pantry before proceeding to make a three layer sandwich. Suddenly, a noise from behind startled him. He spun around, a glowing orb in his hand ready fire.

"Oh Shit . . ." Claire gasped. "Peter?"

"Claire?" The orb dissipated in his hand.

"What are you doing in the dark?" she whispered.

"Making a snack?"

"But in the dark?"

"Well . . ." he began.

"I know, I know. You can see in the dark, but seriously what if I had been someone else."

"Sorry. I guess it was a bit careless of me. What are you doing up anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Peter nodded. "Same here." He offered her a bit of his sandwich, but she declined and headed for the fridge. She grabbed some Cookies and Cream ice cream from the freezer and started attacking it with large spoonfuls.

They ate in silence until Peter spoke up. "So, are you looking forward to graduation?"

"Strangely, yes." Claire acknowledged. "Finishing High School is a big achievement, especially after everything that has happened to me in the last two years."

"Now you'll get to find out."

"Find out what?" Claire asked between mouthfuls.

"If life gets better after High School."

Claire thought for a minute. "Meeting you feels like a lifetime ago," she said softly.

Peter nodded as his brown eyes fell gently into her hers. He turned to her and stood up slowly. "An eternity . . . I feel like I've known you forever." His face inched closer to hers.

"Ice cream!"

"Huh?" The faraway look in his eyes disappeared as Claire jumped off her seat.

She moved quickly to the freezer. "I need a new flavour. Do you want some ice cream?"

"No. Not ice cream." Peter stared at his feet for a second.

"Okay . . ." Claire mumbled as she perused the contents of the freezer. "Are you sure? There's chocolate."

"Claire."

"What?" She turned to face him, hoping he couldn't see the tears forming in her pale green eyes.

"It's not ice cream that I need right now."

"Well . . . What then?" She choked on her words.

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but at the last moment he changed his mind. They stood, silently watching the other wondering who would speak first. Claire's heart was pounding so loudly she thought for certain he would be able to hear it.

"I know something that's better than ice cream." Peter disappeared into the hallway.

Claire let out a deep sigh and blinked back the tears. She placed a hand gently to her chest, willing her heart to slow down.

When Peter reappeared a few minutes later, he had a calm look on his face. "C'mon." He motioned for her to follow him.

Claire looked at him sideways for a moment, but her composure had returned and she did not hesitate to follow him.

A few moments later she was standing outside in the middle of the moonlight courtyard. She shivered in her pajamas. "What are we doing out here?" She whispered as Peter passed her a sweatshirt to wear.

Peter stepped back and posed in front of her. "I am the Dance Teacher and I will enunciate all my words, as I order people around the dance floor." He imitated their instructor.

"Pete . . ."

He offered her his hand. "May I have this dance?"

Claire giggled shyly for a moment. "There's no music."

"Ahh, but there is." Peter whipped a small mp3 player from his pocket and gently placed one side of the headphones in her left ear. He placed the other in his right ear.

"I've been wondering where that got to!"

For a moment he fumbled to find the right song.

Claire laughed when ACDC came through the headset.

"Shhh," Peter warned her.

"Sorry," she stifled another giggle, before shaking her head and adding. "I can't believe you put _Thunderstruck _on there."

Eventually, he selected a generic quick step tune. He pulled her close to him and paused before directing her around the courtyard. Her steps were light and together they moved as one in the silver moonlight. The dance ended after a few minutes when he dipped her gently. He pulled her back against him and they smiled breathlessly at each other. There was no awkwardness between them now, the moment flowed naturally.

"My turn to choose a song." Claire opted for something a little less traditional when she selected _'Don't dream it's over.' _

Peter smiled again and pulled her arms around his neck. They swayed slowly, lost in the music, prisoners of the moment. Just a man and a woman in the soft glow of the spring night. Claire rested her head against his chest and was comforted by the rhythmic thumping of his heart. Peter closed his eyes and suddenly wondered if he had ever felt bliss like this before in his life. He pulled Claire even closer and gently propelled them from the earth.

Claire gasped as she felt the weightlessness overtake her. She peered out and saw the ground rapidly disappearing beneath them. She looked back and her heart skipped a beat as she found Peter's handsome brown eyes staring intensely into her own.

"It'll be okay." Peter promised as they circled above the earth, leaving the world behind.

* * *

**A/N: _Don't Dream It's Over - _Written by talented New Zealander Neil Finn and released by the band Crowded House in 1986. It has been covered by several artists, my favourite cover version being the 2002 single from Sixpence None the Richer. Amazing song :)**


	7. Volume Two: I Can't Catch You

**Volume Two: I Can't Catch You**

****

_**Claire: **__Prom night was memorable, but for all the wrong reasons. It was a catalyst for the emotional trials we were bound to face sooner or later. _

Claire inserted two small tear drop shaped silver earrings into her earlobes. She winced slightly at the pain, but it was gone quickly. Then, she had one last check in the mirror before heading downstairs.

"Becca . . . are you ready."

"Yep," Becca stepped into the room. "Claire you look amazing. Liam's not going to know what hit him."

Claire smiled sheepishly and guiltily realised she cared more about what Peter would think when he saw her. "So do you . . . now let's go."

Arm in arm Claire and Becca proceeded downstairs. Claire giggled nervously when Becca joked that they had finally reached their first slow motion walk down stairs.

Heidi was busy adjusting Peter's tie when the girls made their entrance. When Peter caught sight of Claire over Heidi's shoulder his heart skipped a beat. She wore an elegant floor length blue dress with a thigh high side split. The diamonds at her throat stood out against the simple halter neck cut of the dress.

Claire smiled when his eyes met hers. Heidi turned and said something, but all Claire could focus on was Peter. His hair was newly trimmed and he looked older than his 25 years. She locked her eyes on him and they seemed frozen by the spell of one another. However, as quickly as they both surrendered to it, the enchantment was broken in an instant. But, the moment they shared did not go unnoticed.

"Wow. Peter, I'm impressed. You scrub up nicely." Becca's voice broke through the confusion.

Peter beamed back at her. "Becca, you're beautiful." He kissed her lightly on the cheek before turning to Claire. "So are you . . . Tex." He said softly, trying not to meet his niece's gaze as he leaning to kiss her cheek as well.

His touch had always been comforting to her, but now it was much more than that. The feeling of his lips against her soft skin was electrifying; Claire felt alive whenever he was near. Peter pulled away and quickly put some distance between them.

Heidi held up a camera. "Photo time."

The trio collectively groaned, but did as they were asked and posed together and individually for the standard formal night pictures. Watching in the background, Nathan beamed proudly. Soon, Peter had a stunning woman on each arm and they made their way outside to the waiting limo.

"Have a good time," Heidi wished them well.

"Oh and Pete . . ." Nathan called after them.

"Yeah?"

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

* * *

A few hours later Peter and Claire seemed to have gotten over their initial uneasiness and were tearing up the dance floor.

"I can't believe you cut your hair," Claire murmured for the third time that evening.

"It was time."

"I know, but you look so . . . different."

"You are easily the best dancer here," Peter ignored her and instead complimented her as he twirled her around.

"You're not so bad yourself," Claire stated, as she felt eyes on her. "We're lucky the whole ballroom thing is back in . . . I think we're getting a few stares of envy."

"No, Claire. Those are the jealous eyes of all the boys on me because I'm dancing with the most beautiful girl here."

Claire opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted when a tall young man asked Peter if he could cut in and dance with Claire. Peter was a natural gentleman and kindly obliged. Claire stepped forward and was whirled away, but not before she caught the sight of a cheeky wink from Peter.

"Tom. This is a surprise," Claire greeted the young man in front of her. Tom was Liam's best friend.

"You look truly amazing tonight, Claire. Liam's a fool." Tom smiled warmly.

"_He's not the only one who's a fool." Claire thought to herself._

* * *

Peter watched enviously as Claire and Tom circled the dance floor again. He sighed inwardly. _"This is what it's always going to be like. Her there, you here, always the one looking in on her life." _

He saw Tom lean and whisper something in her ear. Claire smiled and then laughed at the comment. Peter made a fist out of his hand, the anger rising in his blood.

"Hi."

Peter suddenly realised there was a woman standing beside him. The rage dissipated.

"Hi." He returned her greeting.

"Not you first prom." She was a pretty brunette woman of about thirty.

"How'd you guess?" Peter's face relaxed into a smile.

"Just a hunch. You work here?"

"No. My brother volunteered me to help out . . . for my niece." He motioned towards Claire.

She followed his gaze before turning back to him and extending her hand. "Mariette Pascalle. French Teacher."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Peter Petrelli. Uncle."

"A little young to be her Uncle aren't you?"

"It's a long story." He sighed, but was pleased she didn't pick up on the Petrelli in his name.

"Do you dance, Uncle Peter?"

* * *

Peter enjoyed Mariette's company for the next few hours. She proved to be a match for him on the dance floor and for a time she was able to keep his mind off Claire. However, close to 11pm Mariette was called away to assist with a prom emergency, and Claire crept back into his thoughts.

He couldn't really understand why, but something inside was driving him to ask Claire for another dance. He searched the room for her. Relief coursed through his body when he saw her. She was alone. He strolled over, catching his breath as her beauty captivated him again.

"Peter, I've barely seen you all night. How are you?"

"Fine," He lied, forcing a smile on his face.

"Are you okay?" Claire asked.

Peter was silent as he watched the mass of couples on the dance floor. Suddenly, a new song came on. Claire felt her heart jump as the lilting acoustic tones filled her ears.

"Do you want to dance?" she surprised him with an invite.

"Sure." This time his smile was real. He took her by the hand and led her through the throng of people. She moved to put her arms around his neck, but conscious of where they were he moved them to his shoulders. Claire was a little hurt, but she hid her feelings behind a smile.

"C'mon, Claire." Tom appeared from nowhere. "Let's get some photos."

Claire was about to answer, when Tom pulled her by the waist. She stumbled a few steps backwards. Her eyes pleading for Peter to do something, but he missed her subtle cue.

"You don't mind do you, Peter?" Tom didn't wait for an answer.

"I'm sorry." Claire mouthed her apology to Peter, but it was lost in the crowd.

Peter stood in the middle of the dance floor, feeling like a complete idiot, and watching as Claire disappear into the distance.

* * *

Claire had tried unsuccessfully to get rid of Tom since her first dance with him, but he couldn't take the hint. She finally managed to ditch him at the after party. _"He was nice," she mused. "But not for me." _It was now little after one thirty in the morning.

She spent a few minutes searching for Peter before she finally found him. Her heart began pounding again when she spotted him talking to Becca through a downstairs window. She turned away for a moment as she headed towards the door. When she caught sight of them again, they were locked in a passionate embrace. Claire's mouth dropped open slightly and she had to blink several times, disbelieving of the sight in front of her. _"My Uncle and my best friend, together. My Uncle. Peter."_

Claire stood, frozen, watching them for a few seconds before she ran. Breathlessly, she found a small empty room and locked herself inside. Her mind raced with the image of Peter and Becca kissing and something inside her broke. She cursed herself for being a stupid fool and repeatedly tried to convince herself there was no reason to be upset. _"It was just a kiss. One kiss. It didn't mean anything . . . did it?" _Before she knew what was happening, large wet tears started rolling down her face. _"Oh God." _Somewhere in the past few hours the line had blurred and her naïve little crush had become much more. Painful sobs racked her body as she realised Becca had the only thing she ever wanted and it was the one thing she could never have.

* * *

Peter let his lips caress hers. Suddenly he flicked his eyes open and the spell was broken. He pulled away from the pretty blonde in front of him and caught at the sight of her pretty blue eyes. For a split second he wished they were greener, but then a twinge of guilt caught hold of him.

Peter cleared his throat. "I don't think this is such a good idea."

Becca smiled sadly. "Claire . . ."

Peter nodded. "That was, ah . . . nice."

"But not what you're looking for?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"That was a great kiss . . . um . . . so . . . You and Claire?"

"What about Claire?" Peter swallowed nervously.

"I've just been getting this vibe from you two all night . . . there's something about the way you look at her, like she's the only woman in the room and-" She stopped as she noticed the pleading look in Peter's eyes.

"She's my niece," Peter said firmly and a clumsy silence passed between them.

Becca caught the seriousness in his voice and decided to let it go. "I'm sorry," she bit her lower lip. "That was a pretty inappropriate."

"It's okay."

She widened her eyes in an exaggerated gesture and joked. "Must have that last beer . . . I'm gonna head back inside now." She placed her hand lightly on his arm and looked him in the eye. "You're a good guy, Peter."

Peter watched her scurry away. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before staring aimlessly at the ground.

* * *

Peter spent twenty minutes feeling sorry for himself, before he decided to find Claire. He spent another ten minutes searching the house, before trying outside. He heard giggling as he approached the poolside courtyard. As he got closer, he realised he had stumbled upon a young couple. He was about to give them their privacy when he realised the giggling girl was Claire. They were lying on the concrete tiles, the boy almost on top of her, his hand reaching inside the split of her dress. The sight was too much for him.

"Claire . . . what are you doing?" He bellowed.

The boy rolled over and stood up.

"Peter . . . Oh Shit." Claire rearranged herself. "We're just having some fun."

"Who are you? Her boyfriend?" The spotty faced boy asked.

Peter gritted his teeth. "Actually, I'm her uncle, and if you don't leave right now I'm gonna show you exactly what I do to guys that fool around with my underage niece."

The boy left in a hurry without as much as a second look.

Claire put a hand up to her forehead. "I don't believe this."

"Just having some fun? Claire what is wrong with you? Do you even know him? What about Tom?"

"Tom? I don't even like Tom . . . God, you sound you're my Dad or something . . . I thought you'd be cool," she slurred her words as she spoke.

"You're drunk."

"So what if I am? It's Prom Night."

"You don't want to do this, trust me. Not here, not now . . . and not with him."

"Oh really . . . How do you know what I want?"

"I just know."

Claire stepped closer to him. "So, maybe I just need someone a little more mature then," she said huskily.

"Grow up, Claire," Peter angrily rebuffed her.

"Fuck you. Peter." Claire turned sharply, but Peter caught her by the wrist and pulled her back. "Let go of me!"

He pulled her closer to him again. "No."

"Let go of me," She protested again.

"I'm taking you home."

She glared at him angrily, still struggling against the hold on her.

"What is your problem? You've been acting like an ungrateful immature spoiled brat all night. I thought we were friends."

"Friends? I thought real friends don't kiss their friends' friends," Claire slurred again as she revealed she had seen the kiss.

"Oh, so that's what this is about?"

"How could you? She's my best friend."

"Me? Maybe it's time you realised I have my own life Claire. Not everything I do involves you."

"Then how come you expect to be able to dictate my every move."

"I do not, Claire. If anything I'm just looking out for you because it's obvious to me that you're just an immature little girl."

"I wish I'd never met you," she spat back at him. The intensity in her eyes broke into his soul and he slowly released her. The sting of her words hit him hard.

"Done," Peter sneered before turning swiftly on his heels and leaving an open mouthed Claire alone under the stars.

Claire watched him leave as an excruciating anger flowing through her body. She hurried away from the spot where they had argued. She eventually came to a stop near the pool and realised the magnitude of what had just happened. She clutched her arms around her as sorrowful tears flowed down her cheeks. She gasped for air and collapsed onto a nearby chaise long. She sat there for a few moments rocking back and forth, sobbing. Eventually, she took a deep breath and stood up. She walked slowly along the pool edge trying to catch her breath as the tears kept flowing. "Oh God . . . Damn it," she muttered as the heel of her right shoe caught between two tiles. It happened in an instant. She struggled to free herself and lost her balance. Inebriated, Claire was unable to stop her fall. She hit her head on the side of the pool and slipped silently into the depths.

"_Peter . . . Help me . . ." Her last thoughts were of him as she bravely fought against the blackness. _


	8. Volume Two: Keep Your Heart Broken

**Volume Two: Keep Your Heart Broken**

Summer 2008:

"_Peter . . . Help me . . ." _Peter couldn't shake Claire's last pleading thought from his mind as he drove through the darkness. _"This is madness . . ." _He thought as he compelled himself to turn the car around. _"Don't leave it like this."_

As he neared the house, he cleared his mind so that he could focus on Claire. Nothing. Something was not right. Desperately, he searched the house. His heart was pounding by the time he made it to the courtyard. It seemed like only minutes had passed since his shocking argument with Claire. Still, nothing. He held his breath as he neared the pool. It was then that something caught his eye. He cried out when he realised. "Claire." She was drifting near the bottom of the pool.

"No, no, no." Peter didn't hesitate to dive in after her. He swam down and tightly grabbed hold of her body. He returned to the surface, to check for witnesses. When he found none, he flew out of the water and onto the nearby concrete tiles. "No, No, No . . ." His voice trembled with fear. "Don't do this, please . . . Just hold on, Claire." His hands shook as he struggled to remember his training. He carefully placed her flat on her back. He then tilted her head back and searched for any signs of breathing. For a moment there was nothing, but suddenly she convulsed and vomited. Without pausing, he quickly rolled her onto her side into the recovery position. He collapsed backwards into a sitting position. His hand flew up to his mouth as his chest heaved rapidly for air.

"_Of course she's not dead. She's invincible." _Thoughts whirled through his head. He sat beside her limp body for another few seconds before he realised something was wrong. Claire was ice cold to the touch and her breaths were few. He moved to her side again, this time reaching for her pulse. It was dangerously slow. Suddenly aware of their surroundings, Peter realised he needed to get her away from there, and fast.

Peter knew he couldn't risk taking her to a hospital, so he flew to the only place he knew he would safely be able to help her. Home. Thankfully, the house was empty. He stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom and dropped Claire gently onto the floor in their shared bathroom. There was only one way to raise her body temperature; Peter tentatively removed her soaked dress. Throwing it to one side, he gently scooped her up and put her in his bed. He took a step back and paused for a moment. Then, he took a depth breath and removed his shirt and trousers, before sliding into the bed next to her. Her body was bitterly cold against his. She shivered constantly and her lips were a deathly shade of blue. He hugged her tightly, using his body heat to warm her core.

"I'm here," he whispered as he let his trembling fingers stroke the soft skin of her back. "Please don't leave me. I didn't mean it."

Claire was breathing in short raspy bursts, as her petite body tried to fight off the cold. Her icy nipples grazed against the warmth of his chest. As the minutes passed, Peter became astonishingly aware that he was becoming aroused by the closeness of her body. He closed his eyes and yearned for the feeling to pass.

* * *

As the effect of the alcohol wore off, Claire's body temperature rapidly returned to normal. This in turn helped her heartbeat back into its natural rhythm. 

We watched as her green eyes flew open. A sweet smile crept across her lips as she gazed intently at his handsome face.

"Hey . . ." he greeted her tenderly.

She watched him curiously for a second, before the reality of the night before and her current situation crushed down on her.

"Get away from me." She practically pushed him out of the bed.

"Claire?" The forcefulness of her manner sent chills down his spine.

"You heard me," she spat the words angrily in his direction. "I can't even look at you right now."

Peter reached for his jeans and started putting them on. "You did this to yourself, Claire. I won't take any blame. I saved you."

"You think you saved me? Well, that's the exact opposite of what happened, okay." She quickly put on the sweatshirt he handed her and leapt from the bed.

"I'm sorry." His attempt at an apology went over her head.

"The way I see it, in this life everyone I trust betrays me. I thought you were different Peter. I thought you were like me, but clearly I was wrong."

"I am different, Claire, and so are you. You're not that girl from Texas anymore, you're my niece, and my best friend . . . I love you."

His words hung in the air for a moment.

"I love you . . . What does that even mean?"

"You're my niece and I love you; I don't see what the problem is." He lied, to her face. He knew exactly what the problem was. There was a line and he had crossed it. There was no going back.

Claire's bottom lip trembled as she spoke. "I don't want to look into your eyes and feel this way anymore."

Peter pursed his lips slowly, letting her words settle. "Then choose not to hate me."

"I think moving here was the biggest mistake of my life."

"This is crazy. I don't want our friendship to be ruined over some stupid little kiss."

"There's more to it than that, and you know it!"

"What? How can I convince you that I'm sorry?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "That's just it, Pete. I don't think there is anything you can do." She pushed past him and headed towards the door. He caught her by the arm.

"Claire, please . . . Don't do this." He pulled her closer so his face was inches from hers and looked her directly in the eyes.

"I can't be around you right now," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Now let me go."

He called after her. "If you think hating me will make this just go away, then you're sadly mistaken."

The door slammed behind her and the noise rattled through the walls.

"Damn it!" His voice croaked as he stumbled back to his bed and collapsed, head in his hands.

* * *

_**Peter: **__Claire graduated High School a few weeks after that night. She had this amazing aura about her. She was poised, confident and truly beautiful. I missed her terribly. Her presence in my life had been replaced by an overwhelming secret that filled my heart. _

_**Claire: **__Graduation Day was torture. On the outside I was everything I ought to have been, but on the inside I was dying. My feud with Peter was placing great strain on my soul. I could see the hurt in his eyes every time I looked at him. For a moment, I would even feel sorry for him, but then the sting of his betrayal would return and I started to realise I would never forgive him. Hating him was easier than admitting how I really felt. _

Becca approached Claire after the ceremony. They hadn't spoken since Prom night.

"Congratulations," Becca offered Claire her praise.

Claire wanted nothing more than give her a slap, but with all the eyes on her she knew better of it. "Nice speech," her voice was dark with sarcasm.

"I see you still haven't gotten over yourself yet."

"What's your point?"

"I wanted to explain, about that night . . ."

"I don't want to hear it." Claire was about to storm off, but Becca caught her by the arm.

"Let go of me," Claire hissed. "You bitch."

"Hey . . . I was the one who turned down dates to the Prom for_ you_."

"Yeah, so you could crack onto my Uncle."

"It wasn't like that and you know it," Becca replied sternly.

"Right," Claire scoffed.

"It's the truth Claire," Becca explained. "If you can't forgive me, then at least forgive him. He cares about you, and I mean really cares about you, but you're too selfish to see it."

Her message delivered, Becca turned and walked away. Claire watched her go, a sense of loneliness rising into her chest.

* * *

_**Peter: **__Claire and I barely talked that summer. Our conversations usually consisted of common pleasantries in the company of others. I missed her smile, I missed her laugh, and I missed everything about her. Before I knew it, her eighteenth birthday was upon us. It was hard to believe a whole year had passed since she moved to New York. _

Peter fumbled with the small navy velvet box in his hands. He passed it across the table. "Happy Birthday, Claire." He offered his sincere congratulations.

She didn't meet his gaze, but gratefully accepted the box anyway. "Thanks," she murmured. She opened it with a shaky hand and gasped when she saw the contents. Inside was a small silver locket. Set amongst a delicate engraving was a single sapphire stone.

Heidi gasped as she peered over Claire's shoulder. "Wow, Peter it's beautiful."

Claire met his eyes for the first time that night, but said nothing. Green eyes mixed with brown in the candlelight as Nathan made a toast.

"To Claire, Happy Eighteenth Birthday" Nathan raised his glass and the others followed.

Her eyes were still locked on Peter's as she took a sip of champagne. The moment lasted an eternity.

_**Peter: **__Eighteen years old, my niece and I had fallen deeply in love with her. _

* * *

**A/N: That is the end of Volume Two. Concluding Volumes will be written and posted later this year after I come back from Europe. _Think of it as a seasonal break . . ._**

**Please add the story to your alert list so you don't miss out on further chapters. Thank you to those who have left kind reviews. But, most of all thank you for reading. Pip :)**


	9. Volume Three: Bleeding Hearts

**Bleeding Hearts**

Fall 2008:

_**Peter:** The worst Summer of my life ended when Claire moved out to go to College. I had hoped the distance would help, but I was wrong. We had no contact at all. I was dying on the inside, yet nobody even realised. Claire, my sweet, beautiful Claire was gone. She had moved on, so why couldn't I?_

Peter watched lazily as the waiter poured sparkling white wine into the glass beside him. He nodded his thanks, but couldn't bring himself to speak.

"Pete?"

"Huh?" Peter shook his head. "I'm sorry . . ."

"Nathan was just asking about your work." Heidi smiled warmly, but there was confusion in her eyes.

"Oh." Peter started nodding. He took a nervous swig from the glass before he answered. "It's great."

The three of them were enjoying dinner at a fine Italian restaurant at Angela Petrelli's request. She, however, had decided at the last minute not to join them.

"This is a lovely meal." Heidi started the next round of small talk, hoping to avoid the increasing amount of awkward silences among them.

They were just finishing their main courses, when Peter spoke up.

"So . . . I was thinking of maybe moving out."

"Moving out?" Nathan's voice echoed around the restaurant. It was followed quickly by silence as if Peter hadn't quite thought about what he would say next. Suddenly, the monotone shrill of Nathan's cellphone broke the awkward silence.

"Nate, you promised." Heidi was clearly unimpressed.

"I know, I know. I'll just turn-" Nathan glanced at the caller display. "It's Claire."

Peter was on fire at the sound of her name. His eyes blazed.

"Well go on, answer it." Heidi commanded.

"Hello . . . Claire . . . What? Honey, slow down a minute . . . Okay. Are you sure? . . . Alright then, she's on her way."

"What's up?" Peter tried to disguise the worry in his voice.

"That was Claire. She's at the hospital."

Peter's heart skipped a beat.

"Is she okay?" Heidi asked.

"Yeah, she's fine. There was an accident at one of the college Fraternity houses and she rode in the ambulance with her friend."

"She's not hurt?" Heidi's blue eyes were filled with concern.

Nathan shot a sideways glance at Peter, before answering his wife. "No, she's fine. She just wants you to give her a ride back to her dorm."

"Me?" Heidi queried Claire's request.

"Yes."

"I could go with you." Peter offered.

"No, she only wants Heidi there. She told me not to worry. Everything's fine, Pete."

_"Sure it is." Confusion wracked his brain. "How could she not want me there." _

Heidi stood up and Nathan helped her into her long black coat.

"I'll walk you out." Nathan swung a protective arm around his wife as he escorted her to the door. Together they waited at the entrance for the car.

"Do you want me to come back and pick you up?"

"No. We'll get a cab. Give my love to Claire."

"I will. I didn't think I could feel more worried when you said she was in the hospital. Thank God she's alright."

Nathan stared absently at his feet. "Tell me about it."

"Maybe you could use this time to have a talk with Peter."

"What about?" Nathan played the fool.

"He seems bit depressed about something."

Nathan shrugged. "He's just missing Claire."

"I think there's more to it. Just talk to him." The car pulled up and she slid into the driver's seat.

"And say what?"

"I don't know." Heidi shrugged. "Just ask and maybe he'll open up to you." She gave him a quick wave as she drove off.

Nathan walked back into the restaurant. Peter barely looked at his brother as he sat down.

"You want to move out?"

"I need to." Peter's eyes pleaded with his brother not to ask too many questions.

"Is everything alright, Pete?"

Peter pushed a look of innocence across his handsome face. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play coy with me, Peter . . . You have been acting a little strange lately, even for you."

"I just need my own space again, okay. I . . . I'm sick of always being in the middle . . . you, Heidi, the boys."

"Okay . . ." Nathan held up a hand. "Okay, I didn't realise you living with us was such a problem. You used to love it."

_"Well, that was before . . . her." Peter told himself. _"Things have changed now, I can look after myself. I'm fully in control of _. . . Everything . . ."_

"Of course. Living with us was never intended to be permanent." Nathan put a hand on his younger brothers shoulder. "You know, if there was anything you needed to talk about . . . I'd be here for you. You know that, right?"

"Sure, Nate. Whatever." Peter brushed him off. _"The only person I need right now is the one person who won't talk to me. How could you possible understand that?" Peter asked silently as he forced yet another smile onto his face. _

* * *

_**Claire:** The anger that burned in my soul raged for weeks. I avoided Peter as much as I could. As the Summer drew to an end, the hatred gave way to numbness. I was still so hurt, it was like I couldn't feel anything, anymore. College changed all that. At last, I had something to keep my mind off Peter. _

"C'mon Claire . . . we're going to be late." Claire's college roommate, Abby, begged.

"I'm coming." Claire stumbled behind her friend, secretly wishing she'd never agreed to come. "Sorry," she said breathlessly. "Its these shoes."

"Nonsense, they're perfect."

"Yeah, that's because they're yours." Claire was walking awkwardly again.

"You look great. I look great. This is soooooooo great," Abby was practically squealing with excitement.

Claire gave Abby a sideways glance and reminded herself why she was even there at all. She'd been at Columbia for nearly ten weeks now and the only person she'd made friends with was Abby. Well, if you could call it a friendship. Abby was loud and self assured, but seemed to love Claire in spite of their obvious differences. Claire found college refreshing. Finally, she was away from stifling repressiveness that was the Petrelli Mansion. Away from the concerned glances and hushed tones. Away from her old life. Away from Peter.

Claire took a deep breath, sucking in the cool air of the October night. She glanced down at her costume and felt a wave of regret wash over her.

_"Playboy bunnies? You want to dress up as Playboy bunnies?" Claire was astounded._

_Abby shrugged and flipped a blonde curl behind her ear. "Sure, why not? They boys will love it."_

_Claire shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. "Uh uh, there's no way you're getting me into that costume."_

_"But its Halloween you have to dress up!"_

_"I'll dress up . . . just not in that thing . . ."_

_"So, that means you're coming right?"_

_Claire sighed. "Yeah, I'm coming."_

Claire pulled uncomfortably on her costume as she walked and realised she was a few shots away from actually being able to pull off a Playboy Bunny costume. _"I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb," she thought to herself._

A few minutes later they approached the Delta Sigma Phi house. "Ladies . . ." A skinny dark haired young man greeted them, beer in hand. "Welcome, I'm Rob the Pirate and this here is Ryan the Mad Lumberjack." He pointed to a tall robust guy welding a fake axe.

Claire groaned inwardly and fantasised a little about it being real. Her thoughts were cut short as Abby introduced them and then pulled her inside. Claire cringed as she entered the room. Slowly, she dared to take a peek. Laughter caught in her throat as she caught sight of at least fifteen 'Playboy Bunnies'. _"At last . . . I really do fit in" she smirked. _She followed Abby to the kitchen relishing the glances and rolled eyes.

Minutes turned to hours and Claire found herself surprisingly at ease with her surroundings. A gap between her 'Then and Now' phase had been bridged. She danced, and she laughed as Abby introduced her to more people than she could remember. She flirted and gossiped with anyone and everyone. Claire had to hand it to Abby, she was now in a relaxed and confident mood.

Sometime near midnight they became separated. Claire wandered around the lower floor of the house, but Abby was nowhere to be found. "Great . . ." she muttered.

Suddenly, a large guy wearing a firemans uniform locked eyes on her and strode right towards her. "Hey Baby . . ." he paused to burp. "Wanna dance?"

"Not tonight." Claire turned to walk away, but he caught her by the arm.

"Well, I'm on fire and I ain't taking no for an answer."

She felt him pull her closer and she froze, not wanting to make a scene. _"Where the Hell is Abby?"_

"Hey Mike . . . The girl's with me." A husky voice arrived from out of nowhere and a warm hand gripped hers.

"Alright, Richardson, but this is the last one."

Claire turned in time to see Mike hold up his hands as he walked away. "Thanks." She then found herself looking into two pale blue eyes. He was wearing a silk bathrobe.

"No problem." He was still holding her hand. "Lets get some air."

"Okay." She nodded and let him pull her from the room.

She studied him as he lead her from the room. He was at least six foot, with trimmed blonde hair. She could see the outline of his arm muscles through the patterned silk that covered his arms.

"I've been saving girls from him all night." They stood alone on a small deck outside the house. Music floated out to where they were standing. Claire floated away to her own world as she recognised the lament of Leona Lewis' _Bleeding Love. _It was a song she'd grown to love and hate over the past summer. She listened to the lyrics she knew by heart and cursed her naivety. The soft fingers that caressed hers forced her back into the moment.

Blue Eyes released her hand. "Thanks." She smiled. "Frat party and you'd think I'd know what to expect!"

"Yeah." He gave her a sideways glance. "All the freshmen girls are 'PlayBoy Bunnies' their first Halloween . . ."

Claire cringed. "It is that obvious?" she cried.

"Pretty much."

Claire felt her cheeks blossom. "Not exactly my idea of a great costume."

"Oh, why?" Blue Eyes was clearly checking her out. "So what is?

Claire had a sudden vision of herself a superhero costume. The whisper of events gone by and her heart filled with guilt. She could only shrug in reply.

"You look like more of a 'Naughty Nurse' to me."

Claire returned again the present when a couple, who couldn't keep their hands off each other, exited onto the balcony though a nearby door. "Very funny." She stepped down off the balcony and headed towards a small park bench that sat alone in the garden. "Truthfully, this costume rides up like a-"

A tremendous crack split the air. Time slowed down as Claire spun around in time to see the small balcony collapsing into a heap. Taking Blue Eyes and the couple with it. Claire stood still, stuck to the spot as it dawned on her how close she had come to becoming part of the carnage in front of her. The girl started screaming at the top of her lungs. The ear splitting sound was enough to force her into action.

She moved to the girl first. Claire did a visual check of her injuries. A small graze to the knee was all she could find. People started piling out of the house.

"Oh my God."

"Call 911."

The voices were high and every syllable was stressed. Claire ignored them and moved on. Next to the girl, the boy lay writhing in pain.

"My leg, my leg," he muttered over and over again. A fracture. He was conscious and alert.

Claire grabbed the girl. "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop screaming, so we can help him."

The girl looked at Claire strangely for a second, before nodding slowly as small sobs still wracking her body.

"Take your jacket off." Claire commanded one of the shocked bystanders. "NOW!"

He did as he was told. Claire laid the jacket over the injured boy. "Keep him warm until help arrives."

_"Blue Eyes?" _Claire searched the surrounding chaos with her eyes. He was lying amongst a tangle of rubble. He was not moving. Others were starting to crowd around him now.

"No," she cried out as she stumbled towards them. "No. Don't move him!"

She reached his side a few seconds later. She grabbed his hand. It was warm like she remembered. A small cut was oozing above his eye. His eyelids fluttered.

"Hey . . ." Claire began.

"Wh . . . what happened?" Blue Eyes slurred his speech.

"You had a bit of a fall."

"Uh . . ." He wriggle slightly.

"Stay still. The paramedics are on their way."

"What's your name?"

"I knew you'd make a great naughty nurse," he coughed, a small speck of blood appeared on his lip.

Claire tried to smile reassuringly and was surprised to feel tears coming to her eyes. "What's your name?"

"Aaron." His eyelids fluttered again and he lost consciousness.

"I'm Claire."

* * *

**A/N: I'm back!! Please read and review. I've been aching for months to add to this story and now I finally have. More to follow soon. Thanks for reading. Pip :)**

**In the Next Chapter of Volume Three: The Gathering Storm.** A Christmas party at the Petrelli Mansion causes the friction between Peter and Claire to intensify.


	10. Volume Three: The Gathering Storm

**The Gathering Storm**

_Winter 2008:_

_**Peter:** Christmas 2008 was a new low for me. Surrounded by family, I felt utterly alone._

Claire Bennet squinted and raised a hand to block the sun as the shiny Harley came into view from behind the trees. The growling rumble from its engine calmed as it turned and pulled up next to her. The man killed the engine and took off his helmet. He sat back, waiting for her to come to him. His blue eyes did not move from her body as she approached.

Claire strode confidently up to him. Pausing a few steps away, a cheeky smile on her face. He leaned towards her and she practically leapt into his arms. The embrace was deep and the kiss lingered. Aaron Richardson smiled as they drew apart.

"Missed you," he said huskily.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," Claire began.

"You wanna blow off your family Christmas party?"

"I don't know . . . It's just an idea." Claire wandered aimlessly as she spoke.

"Mmm . . . You really don't want me to meet your father, do you?"

"No . . . It's just . . . things at home. Heidi, Nathan . . ." _"Peter," the voice in her head screamed._

"I've seen your Dad on TV. He doesn't look that bad."

Claire looked up and gave him a silent, but meaningful eyebrow raise.

"Hey, I get that the whole 'I was adopted and now I live with my Biological Father thing' is scary for you. But, no one could ever make me think less of you. Ever."

Claire hugged him, her apprehension slipping away. "You always know the right thing to say."

"That's why you've got me." He handed her the spare helmet. "Let's ride."

Claire took the helmet and climbed aboard. Truthfully, she was glad Heidi had invited Aaron. Now, she had a reason to avoid Peter.

Aaron accelerated and Claire felt an electric jolt run through her body. Together they sped into the distance, bound for the Petrelli Mansion. Overhead, the clouds were blending together and the light of the day was becoming ominously dark.

* * *

Peter puffed breathlessly in the cold air of the December night. He was running late for the Petrelli family Christmas party. His stomach was wound in knots of frustration. He couldn't decide if it was because he was almost never late or if he was nervous about seeing Claire. To avoid undue attention he decided he would slip into the house unnoticed, through a side entrance.

He was still brushing snow from his coat as he wandered down a darkened hallway towards the kitchen. He caught sight of Claire leaning over a serving tray of Hors d'oeuvres. He stood back in the half light, letting his eyes take in the pleasure of watching her, unseen from the shadows. She was wearing a slinky red cocktail dress. Not overly revealing, just exposing exactly what it needed, to catch an onlookers breath. It worked. Peter couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Peter!" Angela Petrelli's voice filled the kitchen. "There you are."

Peter had been so taken with Claire, he never even noticed his mother enter the room.

Claire's eyes sprung up at the sound of his name. She caught his eye and their gaze lingered.

"Give me this." Angela grabbed his coat and let him kiss her on the cheek. "And this." She took the bag full of presents he was holding.

"Claire." It was Peter who spoke first when they were finally alone again. "You look amazing."

"Thanks." Her voice was soft. She bent down to return to what she was doing with the food. "I hear you've moved out." Her eyes did not seek out his face again.

"Yeah." Peter shifted nervously on his feet. "Anything I can help with."

She shook her head.

Angela strode through again. "Claire, leave those now. That's what the staff are for. You might want to rescue Aaron from Nathan . . . Peter! Don't just stand there . . . mingle . . ."

_"Aaron . . . who is-" _Peter's thoughts were interrupted when a tall handsome blonde man appeared at the doorway.

"Babe, I need you." The man's blue eyes sparkled with arrogance.

_"Babe?" Peter's mind drifted again._

"Peter." Claire's angelic voice floated toward him.

Visions of the previous year flashed behind his eyes.

_Claire nervously spilling soda on herself . . . Peter pushing her into the pool . . . Eating ice cream together in the kitchen at midnight . . . Dancing alone, entwined in the moonlight . . ._

"Peter, this is Aaron . . . my boyfriend. Aaron, this is Pete . . . my _Uncle_ Peter." Her eyes betrayed a sudden smugness.

Aaron thrust out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Peter nodded and murmured a quick reply. His heart gasped as a shot a pain thrust through his chest. The look on his face was unmistakable to Claire. She was obviously enjoying this. He saw her take Aaron by the hand.

Peter stepped away from them. He saw her lips move to form words again, but he ignored her. Desperate, he headed for the door. He forced himself out into the cold, hoping it would temper the silent rage that burned inside him.

The frozen ground crunched under his feet. He paced backwards and forth, gently trying to persuade himself there was no reason at all for the wistful craving he felt inside. All summer, she had tested him. He had honestly believed that time apart would be better for both of them. He thought it would make her realise how much she needed him. Only, now was he beginning to realise just how wrong he was.

Drops of red hot liquid dripped from his fingers creating a loud hiss as they hit the ground. A dark figure approached from his left. Quickly, he managed to pull his envious hands behind him and scrambled to face the shadow.

"Peter." It was a voice he had not heard in some time.

"Mohinder." Peter was openly surprised.

"It's been awhile, Old friend." Dr Mohinder Suresh smiled as he greeted Peter.

"What are you doing here?"

"Nathan invited me. It is good to see you again, Peter."

"And you."

"How is life treating you?"

Peter sighed and ran a pale hand through his hair. "It's been better . . . still working on your Father's research?"

"Yes," Mohinder paused briefly. "And, some of my own."

Peter nodded. "I'm still nursing." He watched the warmth of his breath curl and disappear into the night air. "But, lately I've been thinking that my heart's just not in it anymore."

Mohinder nodded before crying out. "It's freezing out here!" He started moving on the spot. "I'll never get used to these New York Winters."

Peter laughed. His lips formed a soft smile. He suddenly realised he couldn't remember the last time he had smiled. "Better get back then."

"Yes. I would like to talk some more."

"Of course," Peter agreed. _"Anything to take my mind off Claire."_

* * *

"Oh, look mistletoe." The voice floated across the room.

Peter watched as Claire blushed. Her eyes darted towards his as she prepared her lips for the coming kiss.

The sickened feeling in his stomach rose as he watched the kiss deepen amid hoots from the surrounding guests.

Claire was fully crimson by the time she parted lips with Aaron in front of all her parents guests. She could feel Peter's presence in the room, but dared not make eye contact with him again.

Peter's nails dug into the palms of his hands as he continued to stare. Aaron leaned in close to Claire and whispered something unknown in her ear. She nodded and together they escaped the room unnoticed by all, but Peter. A loud ringing sound filled his ears.

He valiantly resisted the urge to follow them. He had been resisting all night. Resisting the urge to give into the green eyes that had been obviously provoking him since he arrived.

As suddenly as it came on, the ringing died. Inadvertently, he tuned into the conversation across the room.

"I love how they're in that cute beginning of a relationship stage," Heidi let out a soft sigh.

"Cute? I want to rip his tongue out." Nathan steered his wife across the dance floor.

"Nathan!"

"I know, I know. But, she's my daughter Heidi. I never got any of that 'cute' father daughter stuff. I only get the hormonal tantrums and dating to deal with."

Heidi laughed and pulled her husband closer. "Admit it though. You are happy for her right?"

"Ahhh . . ." Nathan debated his next move.

Heidi socked him gently in the chest.

"Ow! Okay, I'm happy, she's happy."

"Good." Heidi kissed him with a closed mouth.

"Mmm . . . and I'm happy that you're happy, Mrs Petrelli . . . Oh look, mistletoe." His voice was low and husky as he pulled her closer for a tender kiss.

The happiness of his brother oozed across the room. Peter would have given anything just to feel something. However, any feelings conjured up by the joy around him died in the coldness of his empty heart. _"Enough is enough." _He slipped silently from the room, desperate to fulfil his urgent craving to be alone.

* * *

**_A/N: A bit of a short one, but the next one is longer I promise. Please R&R_****_, Thanks to those who already have - You make my day. Thanks for reading. Pip :)_**

_**In the Next Chapter of Volume Three: Scars in the Making. **Claire makes some difficult choices about her relationships with Aaron and Peter._


	11. Volume Three: Scars In The Making

**Scars in the Making**

Spring 2009:

_**Peter: **I wish now, that I was someone different back then. I wonder if I had handled things better; that maybe I wouldn't be where I am now. Claire was wise beyond her years. I kick myself for not seeing it. She once told me, "You can't change the past, Peter. So, change your future."_

Claire Bennet stretched like a lazy cat in the warm April sun. The morning light streaming in through the window surrounded her face, giving her a peaceful halo. _"I wonder what Peter thinks when the sun gives my hair a golden highlight . . ." She thought idly, still waking from her dream. "Peter . . ." _Suddenly, all she wanted to do was throw up. Her eyes flew open and she sat up quickly. Next to her a body stirred. Claire threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. Aaron Richardson rolled over and rubbed his eyes.

"Where's the fire?" He smirked.

"I've got early classes this morning."

Aaron blinked and stared at her for a moment. A smile crossed his lips as he watched his underwear clad girlfriend search for her clothes. He glanced at his alarm clock.

"Claire, Babe . . . It's only 6.11."

"What?"

"Classes don't start for at least another hour. Come back to bed."

Claire looked puzzled for a moment. "No . . . I really shouldn't." She pulled on a blue pair of jeans.

Aaron rolled from the bed and walked over to her. "Seriously, Claire."

"What?" she growled, with more anger than she intended.

He moved closer and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Please. Calm down."

Claire stared up at him, resisting the urge to cry.

"Come back to bed." He started caressing her shoulders before tilting her head towards his. She didn't resist when he lowered his lips to hers. Claire closed her eyes. His hands moved down her body, over her bra strap and down to the fly of her jeans. His lips were incredibly soft and his touch gentle.

Claire forced her eyes open. "No . . . I can't." She stepped back from his embrace. "I'm not . . ."

"Shhh," he lowered his voice and cradled her in his arms. "I promised I wouldn't pressure you . . . and I'm not okay. But, having you in my bed every other night is driving me crazy."

Claire's body went rigid in his embrace. "I . . . I know. I'm just not ready."

"And, that's okay with me, Babe." He smiled.

_"Fuck." _She hated his honesty. She hated the way she felt guilty, even when he'd given her no reason to feel that way. How could she possibly explain the mixed up feelings inside that were stopping her from taking their relationship to the next level. "Thanks." She forced a smile onto her pretty face and let him lead her back to bed.

* * *

Later that day, Claire was studying in her dorm room. Casually, she flicked the radio on. The alluring tones of Mariah Carey's _Touch My Body _filled the room. Not usually a fan of Ms Carey, Claire couldn't help but sway to the music. She pushed herself up out of the chair and began moving around the room in time to the music. She let her hair down and danced in an incredibly seductive manner. Softly, she sang along to the lyrics, moving her body as only one can when they are alone.

"Touch my body, Let me wrap my thighs, All around your waist, Just a little taste. Touch my body. Know you love my curves. Come on and give me what I deserve. And touch my Bo-"

Claire jumped a foot when a couple of books fell down onto the floor with a loud thud. She glanced around, nothing. With a hand on her pounding heart she bent down to pick up them up. A sharp knock on the door startled her again. Aaron poked his head around the door.

"Hey Babe . . . Geez, you look like you've just seen a ghost."

Claire laughed it off. "Scared of my own skin sometimes." She glared into the emptiness of the room.

"Ready to go to the Library?"

"Sure." She gathered the books that were spread out on her desk.

Claire and Aaron spent the early hours of that evening with their heads into their respective text books. She loved the stillness of the library and had found her own corner in which she could hide away from other students.

"Psst . . ." Aaron whispered as he sat down next to her.

"Yeah." She felt his warm hand grab hers under the desk. He gently pushed something into her palm.

"Study break time." He watched as Claire opened her hand to reveal a small velvet green box.

Her eyes widened. "What's this?"

"Six Months . . . since you saved me." He grinned and his blue eyes sparkled.

"I'm so sorry. With studying for exams and everything I-" Claire began.

"Don't worry, just open it."

Claire pealed open the box to reveal a small set of pearl earrings. "They're beautiful." She threw both her arms around him and caressed her lips around his. After a few moments she pulled back breathlessly. Green eyes returned that sparkle. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of shattering glass. Small shards of glass began raining down upon them. Aaron moved quickly and put his arm out to protect Claire. The window directly behind them had been smashed.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Claire nodded and turned slowly to see the massive gaping hole where the window had been. Aaron leapt to his feet and rushed over, peering out into the dim evening light.

"When I catch the asshole that did this-" Aaron gritted his teeth in anger.

Claire was at his side. "Hey, we're both okay. That's all that matters." She hid her left hand behind her back until the pain from a glass cut dissipated.

Others had gathered behind them now marvelling at what kind of explosive force could break a window like that.

"Lets get out of here." Claire started putting books in her bag.

"That was weird," Aaron murmured when they finally made their way down the flight of stairs outside.

Claire nodded, her mind racing. Glancing to her left she caught a sight of a figure disappearing. She stopped walking.

"Hey. I think I left my biology text book behind. You go ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Of course. I'm fine," she lied.

"Okay." He kissed her on the forehead.

Claire watched him disappear into the distance, before she turned and ran around the side of the library.

"Show yourself." Her tone was one of anger. "Show YOURSELF," she demanded.

The low rumble of thunder forced its way across the darkening sky as a figure materialised in front of her.

"Peter?" Sharp tears sprang to her eyes. She didn't know if she could feel more betrayed by him. "You've got to stop this. Now."

"What?" Peter played innocent.

"This." Claire flung her hands up in an exasperated gesture. "I respectfully asked you not to be part of my life . . . at least for awhile and this is how you react . . . by spying on me? Following me around? Aaron could have been hurt . . . Even worse, so could I."

"I'm sorry. I'm just looking out for you."

"Looking out for me? This isn't the first time is it?"

His silence gave the game away.

"Jesus, Peter. Just when I thought I couldn't trust you any less, you go an do something that blows everything before it completely out of the water."

"I never meant for you to find out . . . I just . . . I don't ever want to see you hurt."

The heavens opened. The rain feel heavily against them in their exposed position. Together they were instantly saturated.

"This is unbelievable."

"I know." He held out his hand for her.

She stared at it for a moment. "No . . . not this . . . you. Please just leave me alone." She pushed past him, eager to escape the emotional torrent that flowed through her mind.

"I need you, Claire."

She turned back to face him. "No, Peter. You need to get a life. One without me in it. I've grown up. I've moved on. Now it's your turn."

"Please. Don't give up on me."

"No. I can't do this again. We can't be friends, Pete. Not when you keep treating me like this. I'm not some object to be won. I'm your niece."

"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I've tried? These last few months have been Hell without you." His eyes pleaded with hers.

"You once told me I was an immature young girl. Well, I'm not anymore. I've grown up. Time to take your own advice."

"It always comes back to you, Claire. My destiny is you."

"Don't you see, Pete. This whole year. What it's all been about?"

"What's that?" He questioned her harshly.

"You can't change the past, Peter. So, change your future."

Peter suddenly looked like someone had punched him square in the stomach. The rain had plastered his dark hair to his face.

"Please, just leave me alone to live my own life," Claire cried loudly, not just to be heard over the downpour, but also hoping to finally get through to him.

"You don't mean that."

"Yes . . . I do." Desperate tears flooded down her face, mixing with the rain. "Leave, me, alone."

Peter's face dropped. He too, was clearly on the edge of tears. It was the first time they had spoken truthfully in months. It hadn't exactly gone to plan. He turned away and paused as if there was something more to say. He thought better of it and stormed off without looking back.

_"You want me out of your life? Fine, that's exactly what you'll get."_

Claire hugged herself gently. She made no attempt to move out of the torrential rain. She looked skyward, wishing for absolution that did not come. When she looked back Peter had gone. She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. A mixture of pain and sorrow rolling though her veins in rapid waves. She wanted to chase after him. To make him realise what effect he had on her. Instead, she forced herself to turn and walk in the opposite direction. After a few moments she broke into a run, not stopping until she had reached her destination. The pale white door swung open.

Aaron was astounded at the sight that confronted him when he opened the door. Claire stood before him, saturated to the skin, makeup running, wet hair dripping all over the hallway floor.

"Claire . . . What the?"

"I'm ready."

* * *

**_A/N: Enjoying the story so far? Please review, I would really like to know who has been reading. Thanks. Pip :)_**

_**In the final chapter of Volume Three: Change of Heart. **Claire is startled to learn the depth of Aaron's feelings and what it means for the future of their relationship._


	12. Volume Three: Change of Heart

**Change of Heart**

Summer 2009:

"I love you." Aaron's words echoed around the night sky. Claire suddenly felt very small and vulnerable as she looked into his deep blue eyes. Truthfully, she was speechless. Sure, they had spent the night together, and many the nights since. _"But, I love you? Am I really ready for this?"_ An image of Peter flashed through her mind. His comfortable brown eyes, his safe lop-sided grin, his smooth supple hands. _"I can't remember the last time I held his hand. Why should that matter? You're out here, under the stars, with an amazing man - who loves you - and all you can do is think about him . . ." S_he hadn't been able to stop thinking of him all night, ever since she had seen his name flicker on the caller display of her cell phone as she was running out the door to her date. She had stared at it curiously, watching it for what seemed an eternity. She couldn't bring herself to answer. He didn't leave a message and now it was driving her crazy. _"What did he want? . . . Was he calling to apologise? . . . What if something was wrong?"_

"Claire?" Aaron's voice stopped the barrage of thoughts whizzing through her mind.

"I'm, a, wha . . ." Her reply was garbled.

"Claire?" He eyed her suspiciously. "You okay?"

Claire flicked her green eyes up at him, a goofy smile on her face. Desperate to save the moment, she sprung forward into his arms. She kissed him deeply, secretly hoping he wouldn't notice her reaction to those three little words.

"Hey . . . You two!" Abby's loud and overly obnoxious voice carried well through the still night air. She was followed by her latest boyfriend, Steve. A solidly built sophmore whose entire reason for being at college was football, drinking and women. In fact, he would tell everyone and anyone, given half a chance. Claire could not bring herself to understand what Abby saw in him, but at least he treated her well.

Claire and Aaron broke apart slowly. A small look of disappoint flashed across Aaron's face, but it was gone quickly, before anyone could notice. He grabbed Claire by the hand.

"Better get you back," Aaron whispered huskily. "Finals tomorrow."

"Thanks for dinner." Claire nodded as she spoke, still thankful their romantic moment had been rudely interrupted. _"You can't escape this one forever, you know."_

* * *

_**Claire:** I had been so preoccupied with exams and hiding the inner turmoil I still felt about Peter, that I was completely blown away by what happened next. _

Claire Bennet stood in the doorway and surveyed her dorm room. It was filled with boxes and suitcases. Her whole year was about to be packed away into little boxes. She was a little sad, but also filled with anticipation for the long summer ahead. Maybe she would be lucky and get a job. Maybe she would spend her days lazily sunbathing around the Petrelli pool. Most of all she hoped that she would also be able to visit Aaron. _"Maybe I'll get to meet his family."_

She spend the entire afternoon packing away her life. Reminiscing about college parties and new friends. Remembering the classes and late night study sessions. Thinking about Aaron and how lucky she was to have him. It was almost a guilty feeling.

Claire picked up a box from her chest of drawers. She squealed as the bottom gave way and the contents flew out in all directions. Text books and papers landed with a thud on the floor.

She stared at them curiously for a moment, before leaning over and gingerly picking up a leather bound book. _"My old diary"_ She laughed at how immature it sounded, before sitting down and flicking through it.

_Pete and I got told off by Nathan today for our snow fight. How ridiculous, it wasn't like we knew those stupid paparazzi guys were tailing us. I mean c'mon how interesting are two people, an Uncle and Niece, out for a run._

Claire smiled at the memory of the soft wet snow. How simple her life had seemed back then. She read on.

_The two-timing Bastard! I dare not mention his name. Just cos I don't have a pair of perfect double D's and because I'm not willing to climb into bed with him. I'm so angry I want to ram my hand down their sleazy throats . . . if only I could stop crying for a moment . . ._

_. . . Something weird is happening between me and Pete. He smiles at me and I get butterflies. He brushes up against my arm and I practically hit the roof. He's my Uncle. I think there is something wrong with me. Maybe, I'm just projecting my feelings of Liam onto him. God, I hope so . . ._

_. . . Prom Day! I'm so excited. I'm going to look so HOT! I can't wait to see what Pete thinks of my dress. I'm gonna knock him dead. Figuratively, speaking of course!_

The next entry bought tears to her eyes.

_I can't believe this. He's a complete and utter sleaze. Kissing Becca? What was he thinking? We had a massive fight and now we're not speaking. I just want to throw myself under a truck . . . like it would achieve anything . . . but I do. I want to tell him, how I feel, tell him all about the mixed up feelings inside. But, I can't. He's Mr Serious. Mr Always does the right thing. I could never look him in the eye again if he found out the truth . . . Hell, I can barely bring myself to do that now!_

Claire's breath caught in her throat as those old feelings rushed to the surface again. But, they weren't old feelings. Not matter how many times she denied them, the feelings were always there. In some ways they were growing stronger by the day. At the same time, she still harboured strong resentment towards his recent actions. _"How can I hate you this much when all I want to do is love you, Pete."_

Footsteps pounded in the hallway outside. Claire quickly hid the diary under some boxes and wiped her eyes.

Abby and Steve burst through the doorway. "Hiya, Claire-Bear!" Giggling.

"Hey guys." She forced herself to smile. "What's up?" An agonising loneliness spreading through her chest.

More giggling. Steve kissed Abby on the cheek. It made a grotesque sucking sound.

Claire took the hint. "You've got 15 minutes. Then I really have to finish packing."

Steve winked. _"Yuck!" she thought "How she can let him touch her I will never know . . . "_

Claire found herself along in the hallway. Most of the other residents of her shared dorm had already moved out. She poured herself a coffee and sat in the communal lounge, day dreaming. After about half an hour Aaron appeared to help her load stuff into her car.

"I'll go move my car around to the back entrance. You can shoo the lovebirds out and start bringing some of the boxes down." Claire instructed Aaron as she bounced down the hallway. She was too busy organising to notice the worried look on his face.

"Claire . . ." he called after her.

"Back in a minute," she said with a smile and a quick wave.

She was in the middle of moving the car when she suddenly remembered the diary. Claire rushed back to her room. She burst through the doorway, hoping against hope that he hadn't seen the it. She was too late.

Aaron sat on the corner of her bed, wide eyed as he flicked through the pages.

He looked up when she entered the room, a puzzled look on his face.

"I . . . I can explain," she stammered, her heart pounding.

"You . . . You have feelings for your Uncle?" His face was expressionless. Blue eyes filled with questions.

"No . . . I had . . . Might have had . . . That was a long time ago. I was different then."

Aaron stood up, leaving the small leather book on the bed.

"I know it might seem sick to you, but I was confused. A lot of stuff happened to me back then. Some of it I've told you about . . . and some well, I haven't found the right time to explain yet."

A long silence passed between them.

"Say something . . . please," she begged him.

He sighed. "This explains some things. It even kind of makes this easier for me . . ."

The words hit Claire like a kick to the chest. "Mmma . . . Makes what easier?" she stammered.

"Claire, I don't think we should see each other anymore." He looked away.

"What? After what you said the other night?" Claire was confused. "Is this because I didn't say I love you?" Her eyes narrowed.

He looked back at her, blue eyes watering. "I love you, Claire Bennet. From the moment I met you, I've only thought of you . . . but, lately, I've come to realised that you don't feel the same way."

"That's ridiculous. I care deeply about you . . ."

"But it feels like there is always something holding you back. When we're alone, you never seem comfortable around me."

Claire shook her head and moved to the bed to sit down, her hand reached out to support herself. "I can't believe you're breaking up with me."

"Whenever we're around other people, you change. You're sudden completely into me . . . oh yeah, especially when you're with your family. I feel like I'm being used, like you need me to feel normal or something . . . I dunno . . ."

"That's not true," her voice trembled.

He knelt down beside her, a solitary tear slid down his face. "Please don't make this any harder then it already is. I love you . . . but I'm not prepared to be your second best." His voice was close to cracking.

"So that's it? We just go our separate ways, like we never happened? Cos, something happened between us okay . . . And I will never forget that."

"I know, neither will I. But, part of me feels like I took advantage of you that night."

"No, you've never done anything to hurt me . . . I . . ." Claire blinked back tears. "No . . . no."

He hugged her. One final lingering embrace. "I have to go," he said quietly.

Claire nodded.

"I hope you find what you're looking for." He pulled the door open.

"Aaron . . ."

He stopped and turned to face the pretty young woman he loved one last time. Blue eyes filled with agonising pain.

Her voice was stronger now. "For what it's worth . . . I'm sorry."

He acknowledged her with a small head bob and then he was gone.

Claire sat still for a few minutes trying to let the conversation sink in. Her head throbbed, her heart ached. Confused feelings swirled in her stomach. Suddenly, there was only one person she wanted to see. One person wanted to talk to. She had to tell him. To finally, tell him that no matter how much she said she hated him, it was all a lie.

She grabbed a set of keys from on top of the drawers and raced from the campus. She drove as quickly as she could. _"C'mon . . . C'mon."_ She urged the traffic on. A surge of emotion pushing her on. She parked, awkwardly. But she didn't care. She only wanted him. Bounding up the stairs, she stopped in front of his door to catch her breath. _"Am I really going to do this?"_

She rapped her knuckles gently on the door. _"C'mon."_ Nothing. Only silence. She knocked again. _"Please. Please be home. I need you to be home."_ She waited. Still nothing. She knocked again after a few minutes.

"Oh. He's not there, Love." The voice startled her. A lump formed in her throat.

Claire turned to face the Old Man standing a few door down. "Oh." It was all she could manage.

"Moved out."

"Moved out?" she echoed, heart hammering relentlessly in her chest.

"Yeah. A few days ago."

"Do you know where-"

"Overseas," The Old Man interrupted. "Europe or something."

His words took her breath away. "Th . . . Thanks."

"You don't need a place at all, do ya, Love?"

She shook her head and watched as the the man shuffled back along the corridor.

_"No, no, no, no, no."_ Her brain processed the information. First Aaron, now Peter. He was gone and she had driven him away. _"Gone . . . to the other side of the world . . . No . . . To get away from you . . . No . . . Just like you told him to."_ She started taking large gulps of air. She felt weak and had to lean against the wall for support. Her chest ached, as if her heart would explode. She closed her eyes, hoping the world would swallow her whole. She fought against them, but could not stop the tears that rolled down her burning cheeks. She cried out as the floor gave way beneath her and she slid down the wall. There she stayed, crumpled on the ground, face in her hands. The anguish of the moment forcing her into a completely uncontrollable emotional breakdown.

* * *

Half a world away, Peter Petrelli took a deep breath and peered over the side of the railing. All around he could see the breathtaking scene of Paris at night. He felt renewed, ready to take on the world again. _"Happy Birthday, Claire." _There was sadness in his heart, a longing that no distance could erase. But here, atop the Arc de Triomphe Peter had a feeling that the journey was only just beginning.

_**Peter:** Nineteen years old, my niece and I was going to win back her trust, no matter how long it took. Because I loved her. _

* * *

**_A/N: Phew, this is one angsty story! There's plenty more to come too! And some of those happier moments! Thanks for reading, let me know what you think by way of review - Pip :)_**

_**In the Volume Four of The Secret Heart: **A New Peter returns from Europe to find out that the full effect of his sudden departure has had on Claire. _


	13. Volume Four: A New Me

**A New Me**

Fall 2009:

**Peter: **_Europe was life changing. I became another person entirely. Mohinder and I travelled thoroughly that summer. Meeting others with abilities, changing lives. Finally, I had a purpose. I missed New York, and I missed Claire. But, I realised she had done me the greatest favour a friend ever could. I had no contact with her the entire time I was away. News was filtered to me via very infrequent emails from Nathan. A new world was being opened up to him also. He had chosen not to tell me earlier, but the previous Christmas he had told Heidi everything. About his powers, mine, Claire's, about the affair and saving the world. Heidi, the absolute remarkable woman that she is, took everything in her stride. Their relationship was now better than ever. The honesty of it all struck a significant chord within me. I resolved to sort out my issues with Claire once and for all._

Peter Petrelli strode through the doorway of the mansion, confidence in his steps. He had left this place a broken man only a few months earlier. Now, he truly felt like nothing could keep him down. He slipped the ragged overnight bag from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor with a dull thud.

"Uncle Peter!" Monty Petrelli raced around the corner, his shoes squeaking on the polished floors.

"Hey Sprout," Peter grinned as he knelt to face his cheery nephew. "What's your Mom been feeding you?"

"I'm three foot eight!"

"Wow," Peter exclaimed. "You'll be looking down on me in no time."

"Monty . . ." Simon Petrelli's voice was disapproving. "No running in the house. You know what Mom says."

Peter raised an eye brow at his eldest nephew. "Since when do you listen to your Mom?"

"Since I told him his allowance depended on it." Heidi appeared in the doorway, immaculately dressed in a pale pink sleeveless dress. "Welcome home, Pete." Her eyes were full of questions.

"Hello, Heidi." Peter rose to his full height. There was a comfortable warmness in her smile. "Where's my brother?"

"C'mon, Peter." Monty took him by the hand.

Heidi rolled her eyes as she followed them into the formal sitting room.

Peter tilted his head slightly. "He's not working is he?"

Heidi relaxed back into one of the plush white armchairs scattered around the room. "No. Actually, he's trying a little DIY." She smirked.

Peter was about to open is mouth to question his sister-in-law when he was interrupted by Simon.

"So did you bring us presents?"

"Simon!" Heidi scolded. "Peter just got home."

Simon shrugged, and looked at the floor, but not before catching a sly wink from his Uncle.

"Peter," Nathan's voice boomed as he entered the room. "Welcome home."

"Thanks. It's nice to be back." Peter was suddenly aware they were no longer listening. He watched in amusement at the exchange of glances between Nathan and Heidi.

"Did you?" Heidi questioned.

"No. It needs a little more work than I first thought."

"Oh . . ."

"Do you want to?" Nathan spoke softly to his wife.

"No. Let's wait until dinner. When everyone is here."

"Okay," Nathan bent his head down and whispered something Peter could not make out.

The questions in his mind were scattered by Monty who had climbed onto the couch next to him.

"Have you come home to fix Claire?" The boy's eyes were round with sincerity.

Peter's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name. He frowned at Monty's words. "What? Ah . . . What do you mean fix, Claire?" He looked at Nathan and Heidi for guidance.

Heidi's face betrayed an image of remorse. Peter searched his brothers eyes for answers.

"Are you going to make her better now?" Monty asked him.

Peter's heart slowed so quickly he thought it would stop. "Is there something wrong with Claire?"

"No. Nothing," Nathan answered a little too quickly.

"Yes, there is." Monty was insistent. "She dresses all funny and she's always sad. She never comes over to play anymore."

"That's because she's an Emo, Dumbie." Simon Petrelli was blunt.

"Mom, what's an Emo?" Monty directed his next question towards his mother.

Heidi looked a little flushed by the interchange. "That's enough, Boys. How about we go into the kitchen and get a snack." She started to herd them from the room.

"But, Mom . . ." Simon Petrelli began to protest.

Peter didn't miss the furtive glance Heidi shot towards Nathan as she left the room. He gave his brother a questioning look. "Nate, is Claire okay?"

Nathan took a deep breath before answering. "She took her break up with Aaron a little hard."

"Okay . . ." Peter wasn't sure he fully understood where this conversation was going.

"She's not herself at the moment." Nathan sighed again. "I wish you'd been here this summer, Pete . . . We tried talking to her, but she doesn't want to know."

"It can't be that bad." Peter forced a smile onto his travel weary face.

"Well, you know Claire. She's so sensitive. She always takes things to heart . . . But it's different this time."

"Why?"

"I wish I knew, Pete. I wish I knew."

* * *

Claire Bennet felt her feet pound heavily along the gravel. She was late. _"Why am I even running,"_ she questioned herself. _"Not like I give a shit, anyway. These stupid family dinners are joke." _Her stomach did a flip-flop when she remembered the reason the Petrelli family was even having dinner. _"The Prodigal Son returns. I totally should have bailed."_ She slowed to a walk. _"I few more minutes of waiting won't kill them."_

She stepped cautiously into the glaring lights of the parlour. Laughter echoed from the dining hall. She checked her make-up in a nearby mirror and pulled a strand of dark hair from her eyes. She inwardly scolded herself for even caring. Taking a deep breath she headed for the dining room, checking her steps to keep them casual. She paused in the doorway as she caught sight of her family, the dark lock fell out of place and cast a shadow across her green eyes. No one noticed her. She let her eyes wander around the room. Nathan, Heidi, the smiling faces of her half brothers, Peter. He was smiling, sharing a joke with his brother. The quiet confidence in his manner filled the room. Claire was silent. She hadn't seen him this happy in a long time. His clothes were stylish, modern. A soft blue shirt clung to his torso in all the right places. She swallowed hard, a painful lump forming in her throat.

"Claire," Angela Petrelli's voice caught her off guard. "Good of you to join us." Her grandmother forced a smile onto her face as if hoping she could disguise the sarcasm in her voice.

Peter took a sip from his wine glass and caught her gaze for a moment. If he was surprised by the radical change in her appearance, he did not show it.

"Yeah," Claire murmured as she moved to take her place at the end of the table. "Hi." She felt eyes on her when she moved. She glanced upwards, as she sat, straight into Peter's brown eyes. He smiled reassuringly, but his hazelnut gaze betrayed nothing of his true emotions.

Claire did her best to ignore everyone throughout the meal. _"The sooner I finish, the sooner I can leave."_ Conversation topics ranged from Peter's exploits in Europe - the abridged version of course to Simon's tales of his new classmates. Claire listened intently, struggling to keep her eyes on her dinner plate. Thankfully, they seemed more interested in Peter than her. She frowned remembering their last family dinner. The one in which she had stormed out of vowing never to return. Every so often she allowed herself to glance around the table. Angela's lips curling into the tiniest of smiles as she listened to her grandson, Heidi and Nathan sneaking adoring looks at one another, Peter laughed as he relayed his amusing encounter with an absurd french waiter. Here, surrounding by the people she was related to, she suddenly felt overwhelmingly alone. She was on the verge of tears when Nathan stood to make a toast. Her fingers scrambled blindly for her glass as she fought to regain control over her emotions.

"To Family. I stand before you a changed man. This summer I have truly realised what it means to be a Man and a Father. I would like to toast to Mom, thank you for your wisdom and guidance. To Peter, thank you for telling me I don't always need to keep my feet on the ground. To my children, I love you just the way you are . . ."

Claire doubted the sincerity in his voice. _"He abandoned you once . . ."_

Nathan continued. "And finally to Heidi, without whom I would never have made it this far. My beautiful wife and mother to what will soon be three wonderful children."

"Oh, Heidi." Angela clapped her hands together in delight.

Claire felt her world spin beneath her. The champagne glass slipped from her fingers and shattered onto the floor. Claire gasped for breath as she realised all eyes were on her. "Excuse me." She stumbled backwards and fled from the room.

"Claire?" Nathan called as he prepared to follow her.

Peter put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'll go."

* * *

A few moments later, Peter grabbed the doorway for support as he scrambled out into the crisp Fall air. "Claire." His voice carried well in the darkness, but she did not reply.

He found her a short time later, resting on the park bench is the south corner of the garden. Dark hair forcing her pale face into shadow. His mind travelled back to a warm summer night two years before. The difference in Claire was astounding. Gone were the golden locks, the golden tan and determined demeanour. This Claire was fragile.

"I don't need a lecture, okay," she said stubbornly.

Peter nodded. "I know," he whispered huskily.

The mere sound of his voice gave her goose bumps. She shivered in her denim jacket.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.

"Not particularly."

"Fair enough." He shuffled absently on the spot and put both his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Europe looks good on you." A weak smile crossed her pale lips.

Peter looked at the ground, feeling the slightest blush in his cheeks. He watched, wide eyed, as she pulled out a cigarette and lighter from her pocket. The light flared brightly in the darkness casting an ethereal glow on her face. It was gone in a split second as she drew the cigarette up to her lips and inhaled deeply. She closed her eyes, enjoying the way the smoke curled down the back of her throat. Peter was staring at her when she opened her eyes a few moments later.

"What?" she demanded. "It's not like it'll kill me."

Peter chuckled. "I guess I can't argue with that . . . Mind if I sit?"

She shrugged.

He positioned himself carefully, trying to avoid being too close. "I want to help you, Claire."

She shifted her jet black rimmed green eyes to his. "I'm fine," she lied.

"I know." The brown eyes lied back. "So am I."

"I'm sorry, Pete, but there are just some things that I cannot tell even you."

"Likewise." He stood up to leave, but not before turning and delivering his message. "I missed you so much while I was away, and I miss you still. I'm not going to pretend that I can make things better for you. I can't . . . only you can do that. "

She said nothing, but her eyes begged him to stay. For a moment, he feared that if he said anything more she would shatter into a thousand pieces. He pursed his lips and continued. He would not fall for that look again.

"I'm here for you . . . Whenever you're ready." He whispered as he disappeared into the shadows leaving her sad eyes to linger after him in the darkness.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review - Pip :)**

_**In the next chapter of Volume Four: What You Hold Sacred: **A phone call changes everything . . ._


	14. Volume Four: What You Hold Sacred

**What You Hold Sacred**

Winter 2010:

_**Peter:** In the months following my return, Claire continued to be distant. Not only from me, but everybody; she skipped our regular Christmas celebrations without reason. Then, whenever she was around her mood was always abrasive. I wanted to help, but decided it was better not to force the issue. She was incredibly fragile and I wanted to make sure that even though she continued to push me away I would be there for her. No matter what. My only hope was that the turning point was coming soon. _

The noise was piercing. Peter Petrelli opened his eyes, but could see nothing. Again, the shrill of his cell phone rang out in the darkness. Groaning, he stretched out and fumbled his hand across the bedside table. No phone. He sat up and focused his eyes into the pitch black. He threw back the covers and picked up his trousers. He reached into the pocket and withdrew his phone. The light illuminated his face, as he peered at the caller display.

"Claire?"

"Peter?" The loud noise in the background could not distort the panic in her voice. "I need . . . "

"Claire, I can barely hear you. Where-"

The noise died suddenly and Peter could hear the sound of footsteps. Claire's footsteps.

"Pete, can please you come get me," she pleaded.

"What? What's happened? Where are you?"

"I don't know . . . " More footsteps. "Ah, I'm-"

His mind raced as he visualised the location. He interrupted her. "The South Bronx? Jesus, Claire what are you doing there? . . . Never mind, don't move. I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up, hurriedly pulling on his black winter jacket.

"Who was that?" The bed covers stirred.

"My Niece." No more explanation given. In another minute he was flying high over the city. On any other night, he would have marvelled at the spectacular view. He flew out over the water, light from the city shimmering on the surface. He slowed, thankful he could instantly recall an image of the area and knew exactly where he was going. He hit the ground running. In the distance, he could make out a solitary figure huddled up against a street light. She was wearing a tight black mini dress and knee high boots. The dress was torn.

Claire was jumpy. She looked genuinely scared. Her eyes were bloodshot, mascara streaking down her cheeks. He moved quickly, wrapping his coat around her shoulders. The sudden warmth against her skin was a relief, yet she trembled when he put his arms around her. He held her quietly for a few seconds.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt in anyway?" She stiffened as he moved his warm hands through her hair and cupped her face. His brown eyes were dark, filled with concern.

"I'll be okay. Just get me outta here." She let him lead her around the corner, where they could be sure they wouldn't be seen.

Peter scooped her up effortlessly and propelled himself away from the street. Together, they soared high above the city. Claire buried her head in his chest and let the tears come. As she sobbed, she became aware of the softness of his shirt against her cheek. A sweet aroma filled her nostrils. It was a mixture of aftershave and perfume. His heartbeat pounded in her eardrums. It was instantly the most comforting sound she had ever heard.

Eventually, the wind that whipped her hair died down. Peter slowly released her. They were on the street outside his apartment.

"Get in." He gestured towards the Jeep parked at the curb. "I'm taking you back to your place."

"Can't I just stay here tonight?" she asked.

"No."

Claire peered over his shoulder and up towards his apartment. "Have you got a girl in there?" A sly grin crept across her face.

Peter frowned at her. "I don't see how that's relevant."

"I was only asking," she whined.

"What were you doing out in the South Bronx tonight?"

She scowled at him.

"Hey, I was only asking!" He mimicked and watched as her eyes narrowed. "Get in the car!"

"Alright." She slammed the door. _"How dare he?"_

They rode in silence for several miles. Claire fidgeted in her seat. "I need a cigarette."

"What?"

"I need a cigarette. Can we stop please?"

Peter glanced at her sideways. "You're joking right?"

She sighed, but said nothing. Nervously, she raised a black fingernail to her lips.

Peter spoke first. "What's going on with you, Claire?"

"Nothing." The fingernail edged back and forth across her bottom lip.

"It doesn't seem like nothing."

Her hand flew away from her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. "Just give it a rest, okay."

"We only want to help you."

Her eyes widened, pupils dilating. "We? Nathan and Heidi? Oh, God, you're not going to tell them about this are you?"

Peters jaw stiffened and he checked the rear view mirror. "No." It was against his better judgement, but it would only create more tension within the family. "They only care about you."

"Whatever. They only care about the baby," she spat the words angrily from her mouth.

"That's hardly fair. They've been though some rough patches. You should be happy for them."

"Happy? Yeah, happy like they are; now they've got a replacement for their defective daughter."

"That's it." He pushed his foot down hard against the brake pedal forcing Claire to brace herself against the dash as the Jeep came to an abrupt halt.

"What did you do that for?"

"Because I want you to stop playing games, Claire."

"Nothing is wrong, okay. How many times do I have to say it?"

Peter shrugged. "Only ten or twelve more times." He gunned the engine and pulled back onto the road.

She folded her arms. A familiar scowl etching itself on her face. They continued in silence for the rest of way drive. The Jeep had barely come to a stop when she flung open the door and jumped out. Peter flinched as he felt the door slam. He watched her stomped away the car.

"Claire . . ." Peter lowered the passenger window and called after her. "C'mon Claire. Don't leave it like this." He hit his hand against the steering wheel. "Damn it." He hung his head, searching his mind, wondering if there was anything else he could have said or done.

A knock at the drivers window startled him. He stared at her as she motioned for him to lower the window.

Her eyes searched his face. "I forgot my cell phone." She held out her hand impatiently.

Peter never let his eyes leave hers. Blindly, he reached down to the seat beside him and grabbed her cell phone. Gingerly, he placed it in the palm of her hand. Their hands hovered, lingered and revelled in the electrifying closeness of the other. Instantly, the denied feelings between them resurfaced, undaunted by the passage of time. Claire blinked, a puzzled look on her face. She took a deep breath and turned to go, but Peter caught her wrist with his left hand.

"Don't touch me," she screeched, wildly pulling to get away.

"You can't push people away forever," he retorted. A certain calmness in his voice.

"Let go of me," she pleaded, tears in her eyes.

"No. Not this time." He held her firmly by the wrists. Brown eyes firmly implanted on hers. Heart pounding wildly in his chest as he watched her struggle.

Claire glared at him. Anger rising through her pulsing veins.

"Why did you call me tonight?" he demanded.

"I don't know," she sobbed.

"But me? Why did you call me?" he repeated forcefully.

"I don't know," she yelled.

Peter opened his mouth and then closed it suddenly. His eyes focused on a silver sparkle at her throat. He used his right hand to pull back the collar around her neck. His suspicions confirmed, he released her. She stumbled back a few steps and reached for her necklace. It was the locket Peter has given her for her Eighteenth birthday. She tucked it inside the neck of her dress, aware of his eyes on her.

Peter cleared his throat. "Look. I'm sorry. You can be whoever you want to be." He started the engine. "But . . . "

"I . . . I don't who I am anymore," she stammered and moved back toward the Jeep.

"But, I know you." Peter whispered. "And this . . ." He moved a lock of hair from her eyes and ran his hand softly across her cheek. "This isn't you." He didn't wait for her reply. "Goodbye, Claire." He slowly accelerated into the night.

She pulled on the coat and wrapped her arms around herself. "I called. . . because I need you, Pete," she murmured, alone in the moonlit street.

* * *

A few weeks later . . .

Claire Bennet padded softly across the wooden floor on the second story of the magnificent mansion. Her father, Nathan caught sight of her as she moved past the open doorway.

"Claire . . ."

Her sullen, dark haired frame reappeared in front of him. "I came to return Peter's coat. He told me he'd be here today." She suddenly sensed that she had been duped.

Nathan's brown eyes were cold as he locked onto her face. "He's outside with the boys. Come in for a moment." His tone was ominous.

She moved slowly to a chair and sat down. "I'm running late."

He ignored her. "Claire, I had a call from anacademic adviserthis morning. She told me your grades have slipped a lot this semester."

Claire rolled her head to the side avoiding his steely gaze. She fidgeted with the collar of Peter's coat.

"Apparently, this has followed on from poor results in you last round of exams."

"I can't talk about this right now." Claire pushed herself away from the chair.

"No, Claire. We do need to talk about this. Now." Nathan was barely managing to keep his voice down.

"Please. Not now." Her eyes pleaded with him as she turned and scurried from the room. He followed close behind.

"What is going on with you? Skipping classes? Failing Papers? This isn't like you, Claire. I know things have been rough for you lately, but throwing away your education? No. This is where it stops."

"God. Why can't you all just leave me alone?" she screamed as she turned back to face him. Her pale face abruptly turning a dark pink.

"Because I'm the one who is paying for the education you seem so ready to throw away!"

"So what? Just because you hold the purse strings that means I'm supposed to take this from you?"

"This is your life, Claire," he begged. "Once an opportunity is gone you can never get it back. I'm your Father and I don't want you to have any regrets."

"You're not my father. You never have been. You're just a name on a cheque." Her words hung in the air as they eyed each other up. So involved in their verbal tirade, neither had noticed the figure coming up the stairs.

"Excuse me, Mr Petrelli."

"Not now, Rena." Nathan phrased his words as politely as he could when addressing his long serving housekeeper.

"No. It's important. A phone call. It's the hospital."

"What?"His brain churned wildly for a few seconds as her words sunk in. "I'll take it in the office." He moved swiftly across the landing and disappeared through the doorway.

Claire stood still, unsure if it was wise to take the opportunity to retreat, but a sudden dread in her heart told her not to go. Instead, she floated in doorway of Nathan's office. She was just in time to see him replace the phone into its cradle.

"That was the hospital."

Claire frowned as he repeated the obviously in a steady voice.

"There's been an accident. Mom and Heidi . . . they-"

"Are they okay?" she cut him off.

He raised his shell shocked eyes to meet hers. "I don't know."

"Oh, God," her voice trembled as visions of Peter and her brothers flashed across her mind. She could hear their distant laughter,picture them wrestling for the soccer ball. Innocent, carefree and blissfully unaware of the nightmare that was about to be thrust upon them.

* * *

**A/N: This was an incredibly hard chapter to write. Especially considering I had been planning this for months! So I hope this fits with the story I'm trying to weave. The next chapter, however, is already under way and flowing nicely. Resolution for (some of) the inner torment is on its way. Thanks for reading.**

_**In the Next Chapter of Volume Four: The Fallen: **A desperate dash to the hospital and Claire finds redemption in the most unlikely person._


	15. Volume Four: The Fallen

 **The Fallen:**

Spring 2010:

Peter Petrelli was stunned as the petite pale hand reached out for his. He stared at her hand as it lay on the leather seat next to him. The hand belonged to his niece, Claire. It was an peace offering he could not resist. He reached out and placed his hand on hers. She squeezed it gently, reassuring him that no matter what was about to happen she was there for him. He looked up into her soft green eyes and saw the same worry that was running through his own mind. Together with his brother, Nathan, they were on the way to the hospital. Just minutes earlier. Nathan had received a phone call advising him his wife and mother were in the emergency room. Car accident. Condition unknown.

_"If it was bad enough that they couldn't say anything over the phone . . . Oh, God."_ Claire's thoughts echoed in his mind. _"I'll never forgive myself."_

He tried valiantly not to hear them, but in the muddle of his own emotions, he couldn't control his mind reading power. He rubbed his fingers along hers and her panicked murmurings died down.

Their hands found one another again after they exited the car. Nathan strode into ER as if he was attending a business meeting. For him, the moment was about power, being in control. Because Nathan Petrelli very rarely found himself out of control in any situation. And, he would be damned if he let his emotions slide on this occasion.

"Mr Petrelli." A pretty nurse met them at the entrance. She started giving him a summary of the accident, like she was briefing him on a series of morning meetings.

Claire found the pace difficult to keep up with. She ran alongside Peter. The dull echo of her black pumps the only noise between them. Still, they did not let go. It was comforting for them, to stay connected. Both reasoned that it wasn't weird or unusual, they were family and this was what families do in times of crisis.

"How is my wife?" Nathan Petrelli's first question was barked like an order.

"She is fine. A slight bump to the head." The nurse's brunette head bobbed up and down as she walked.

"And the baby?"

"We're just doing an ultrasound now to confirm, but everything appears to be normal."

"Where is she? Can I see her?"

"Yes, sir. Just follow me."

"Wait." Nathan Petrelli came to a halt in the crowded hallway. "What about my Mother?"

The nurse turned to face them, a grave look on her face. "The specialist is with her now . . . "

Peter finally spoke up. "Specialist? What's going on?" he demanded.

"Look when we know more, I'll let you know."

"I don't understand. What's wrong with her. Where is she?"

"I know you're all concerned right now. When your mother was brought in she was unconscious. Right now, we are doing everything we can to help her. Now, if you'll follow me." She led the way into a dimly lit room.

Heidi Petrelli was lying on a hospital bed, stomach exposed as a technician moved an ultrasound wand around her belly. "Oh, Nathan. Oh, Peter. I'm so glad you're here. It was awful." She was deathly pale, a small bruise on her forehead.

Nathan was at her side in an instant. His hand reaching out and finding hers. "Are you okay?" He asked.

Peter and Claire stood back slightly. Relieved glances passed between them. They were still holding hands.

"I'm fine . . . But Angela . . ." Heidi began.

"Shh . . ." Nathan kissed her on the forehead. "How is the baby?"

"Just perfect," the technician replied.

Relieved smiles all around.

* * *

A few hours later, Nathan, Heidi, Peter and Claire found themselves in a hospital ward, at Angela Petrelli's bedside. The Specialist had spoken to them just a few minutes earlier. Angela had suffered a broken ankle and a concussion in the accident. The CT scan was clear, but for the time being she was still unconscious. Therefore, the full extent of her head injury was not known. Heidi had been given the all clear.

"Oh," Heidi sighed. "I can't believe this. I feel so responsible."

Nathan put his arm around his wife and pulled her close. "Hey, this isn't your fault."

"We're just glad you're okay, Heidi. Mom will come through this. She's a fighter," Peter offered.

A silence fell over the room as they all contemplated their relationships with the matriarch of the Petrelli family.

"Hey Pete," Nathan smiled at his brother. "Remember when we were kids and Mom had to take you to the emergency room."

Peter frowned and raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"Sure you do. It was your sixth birthday and Mom was giving you a lecture about party etiquette so you stuck an M&M up your nose."

Claire giggled and Peter rolled his eyes.

Nathan ignored Peter and continued for Heidi and Claire. "Of course, it got stuck so Mom took him to the ER. On the way she started telling him off for putting stuff up his nose and how dangerous is was. Peter, by this time, was so angry that when they got to the hospital he proceeded to give anyone who would listen a lecture on the dangers of sticking objects up noses. He was so good at mimicking her tone, it was classic. Poor Mom, if looks could kill."

"Only time I went to hospital as a kid." Peter smiled shyly as laughter filled the room. He stepped closer to Claire, secretly reaching for her hand again. She didn't pull away.

Together they swapped stories about Angela. Heidi and Claire sharing their tumultuous first encounters with her. For Nathan and Peter it was more stories from their childhood. Another silence fell between the group. The two brothers both contemplating what it would mean to lose another parent.

"Oh. Oh no," Heidi spoke suddenly.

"What is it?" Claire asked.

"Oh oh oh oh oh." She stood up and flicked her dark hair behind her shoulder.

"What?" The other three asked in unison.

"My water just broke." She clutched her swollen stomach.

"Your, your what?" Nathan stammered. "Baby time?"

Heidi nodded, unable to suppress the big smile on her face.

"Are you two okay to stay here?" Nathan asked.

"Of course!" Peter stood up and ushered them out the door. "Go . . . go." He waved them off down the hallway. "Good Luck!"

He turned back to Claire. "What a day, huh?"

"Yeah." She suddenly felt uncomfortable in his presence.

Peter took a seat opposite Claire, on the other side of the hospital bed. Angela's skin was a sickly shade. It was unusual for them to see her in this way. She never got sick and was always perfectly made-up. Together they sat, taking in the silence and the soft sound of her breathing.

"I'm-" Claire began.

"You know it's-" Peter started.

They both stopped abruptly when they realised the other was speaking. A goofy smile spread across Peter's face. "You go."

Claire smiled shyly and averted her gaze from his. "I was just going to say . . . ah . . . that I'm sorry for-"

Peter offered her his hand across the bed. "No . . . It's okay. You don't need to . . . " He paused when she took his hand. "Not now."

Her green eyes filled with tears. "I'm so scared."

"I know." Peter nodded his agreement. "All the powers in the world and I still wasn't prepared for this."

"I've missed you." A solitary tear slid down her cheek.

"Hey, maybe after all this is over we can go out dancing."

Claire laughed and dabbed the back of her hand at her tears. "I'd like that . . . It's been . . . _Forever."_

He stroked the top of her hand. They sat at Angela's bedside, chatting for hours, smiling like old friends who been never been apart.

* * *

Claire awoke to the soft squeeze of her fingers. "Mmm . . . Pete?" The hand that held hers had red manicured nails. She lifted her head back from the covers only to meet the eyes of her grandmother. "Hey, you're awake."

Angela smiled. "Where is everyone?" There was expectation in her tone.

"You know you're in the hospital right?"

Angela nodded. "Yes."

"They're down in Obstetrics. Heidi went into labour."

"Heidi . . . How is she?"

"She's fine." Claire tightened her grip and place her other on top. "The baby is fine. Pete was here just a moment ago, but I guess he went to check on them."

"What time is it?" The colour had returned to her face.

Claire yawned and glance down at her wrist. "A little after three. How are you feeling?"

"Sore." She examined a deep purple bruise on her arm. "You know, Dear, I've been meaning to talk to you." Angela let go of Claire's hand and pushed herself up the bed.

"You have?" Claire swallowed.

"I know."

"You know?" Claire ran a hand through her dark hair, fearing what would come next.

"I know you're hurting."

"Ah," Claire could feel the tears welling up again.

"Life, the choices we make, as a woman these are never easy."

"That's an understatement."

"I was once like you. Afraid of being alone, afraid that no one would ever want to love a . . . _freak . . ._ is that what you call it?"

Claire stared at her grandmother as she continued.

"You need to take care of yourself, Claire. Before you can truly let anyone into your heart."

Claire blinked back tears. "I . . . I don't know how to be me any more."

"I know one thing . . . this." Angela gestured to Claire's appearance. "This has to go. You're almost twenty . . . A bit old for teenage flights of fancy, wouldn't you say?"

"I need some help," Claire agreed.

Angela opened her arms. "Come here."

Claire leaned onto the bed and let her grandmother put an arm around her.

"And you always thought I was a cold hearted bitch."

Claire stiffened, unsure of what to say. The look on her face gave her true feelings away.

"It's okay. I apologise to you, Claire. I've never really given you a chance to get to know me." Angela's voice was tinged with regret. "I never saw eye to eye with your mother and I've let that affect our relationship."

Claire relaxed and nestled her head into Angela's shoulder. "I'm sorry . . . for not being myself lately."

"I know about school."

"Oh God," Claire groaned. "I . . . can explain . . ."

"I might be able to offer some help in that area."

Claire sat up, face to face with Angela. "Really?"

Peter cleared his throat in the doorway. He looked tired. "I hope I'm not interrupting." He was a little surprised to see them embracing, but he covered it well.

"Of course not, Peter," Angela smiled at her son.

"How are you feeling?" He didn't move from the doorway.

"A little sore but," she looked at Claire. "On the mend."

"How is Heidi?" Claire questioned.

"Great, better than great. She and Nathan are now the proud parents of a baby girl," he announced, stepping into the room.

"A girl!" Claire squealed with delight. "I have a sister!" She leapt up and launched herself at Peter. They embraced warmly, relishing the closeness that had been absent for too long. The broke apart slowly, their gaze lingering.

Angela Petrelli watched her son and niece, hands in her lap, a contented smile on her face.

At last, guilt free smiles all around.

* * *

**A/N: Hi, thanks for reading - Pip :)**

_**In the last chapter of Volume Four: Goodbye and Good Luck: **Claire makes a stunning decision about her future. _


	16. Volume Four: Goodbye and Good Luck

Goodbye and Good Luck

Summer 2010:

_**Peter: **Life gained some normalcy after the events of that Spring. I resumed my work with Mohinder and relished the simple tasks of everyday life. Nathan and Heidi named their daughter Samantha Rose Petrelli. She was a perfect addition to the family. They spent the next few weeks settling back in at the Estate. The boys were so proud to have a baby sister, so was Claire. I knew her well, but the change she had undertaken in just a few weeks was nothing short of astounding. She was a new person. _

Claire Bennet paced slowly back and forth between the numerous rays of sunlight that filtered in through the dormer window. The occasional squeak of the floorboards was the only sound in the sun filled nursery. Her trimmed, newly blonde hair created a soft outline around her pretty face. She cradled a small bundle close to her heart. "How can I love you this much? I only just met you," she whispered.

Peter Petrelli hovered in the doorway, watching from a distance. Unintentionally, he was caught up in their private moment. His brown eyes followed them. He swallowed hard as a lump formed in his throat.

Noticing him out of the corner of her eye she turned and greeted him warmly. "Hello Stranger. C'mon Sammie, lets go meet Uncle Peter."

Peter stretched aimlessly. "I think you'll find we've already met . . . And don't call me Uncle. You know it makes me feel old."

Claire ignored him. "You probably don't remember him because he's been gone for a few weeks," she explained to her sister. "He was the one with the strange tie at the christening."

Peter raised his eye brows. "Strange tie?"

Her eyes widened with sudden regret. "Um, yeah. Sorry, Pete."

Peter mimicked her expression. "You told me it looked nice!"

"I was just being polite." She shrugged.

Samantha Petrelli closed her eyes. Blissfully unaffected by the playful banter. Claire laid her gently down and rested her arms along the edge of the crib.

"She's so small, so innocent . . ." Claire breathed.

"It's a good look for you."

"Me?" Claire looked embarrassed. "Oh, no."

He positioned himself on the other side of the cot. "Sure. Why not?" His eyes studied her face.

"I'm her big sister. I just want to protect her . . . " Claire continued.

"Yeah . . ." He had a distant look in his eye.

"Pete?"

"Huh?"

"Little Sammie got you spellbound already?"

_"No, not her." _Peter grinned. "I like your hair. It's very sophisticated."

Claire blushed. "Thanks . . . So did Mohinder send you to somewhere exotic?"

"Las Vegas."

"Vegas. Cool. I'm so jealous," she added a few syllables to the word 'so'. "Did you have a good time?"

"Sure." Truthfully, he'd been dead bored. His mind constantly wandering to other times, other places and other people. "I'd love to take you sometime."

"Really?" Claire squeaked.

"When you're old enough," he smirked and straightened up to his full height.

Claire cocked her head to the side an unimpressed stare in her eyes. "Thanks. I'm so you made it back," her voice was laced with sarcasm

"I couldn't miss your birthday dinner two years in a row now could I?"

* * *

_**Claire: **I finally pulled myself together in the summer of 2010. What surprised me most was that it was Angela who helped me see that there was a new path ahead of me. I made the decision to stop living in the past, do my best in the present and focus on the future. There was only one problem. My future was in one direction and Peter was in another. _

Claire stood and raised her glass. "I have an announcement to make, but first I want to thank all of you for your love and patience this year." She paused as they each murmured quite thank you. "This year has been so hard and that's why I have decided to leave New York."

"Leave? When?" Peter didn't hide the disappointment in his voice. Nathan and Heidi shared a bemused glance. Angela was the only one who showed no surprise.

"I'm not leaving permanently. Just for school. After a lot of thought and hard work in the last month I can now tell you that I've been accepted to Stanford. I'll be majoring in Journalism."

"Claire! That's wonderful news," Heidi exclaimed.

Nathan rose to his feet. "I'm really happy for you, Claire."

Peter stayed silent. His mind reeling.

"I can't help, but think you had something to do with this." Nathan looked over at Angela.

"It was Claire's decision," Angela said discreetly. "I just steered her in the right direction."

"I'd like to propose a toast . . . To Claire, may Stanford be everything that you wish for and your education take you to new heights. Just don't be a stranger." Nathan was evidently extremely proud of his daughter.

"I won't," she promised.

The glasses were raised. "To Claire." The voices were happy and they returned to the hum of excited conversation.

Peter smiled openly, but on the inside a new array of emotions swirled. His eyes searched desperately, but Claire avoided his gaze.

* * *

Claire found Peter alone in the garden later that night. She positioned herself on the bench next to him.

"You know this is my favourite place in the whole garden," she stated.

"I'm surprised." He stared up into the clear night sky.

"I know . . . I was-"

"I thought you loved New York," he interrupted. The urge to convince her to stay was overwhelming.

"I do, Pete. It's just . . . I need to do this. I need to challenge myself."

"I understand, but in California? It's like the other side of the world out there."

Claire frowned. "Geez, couldn't you at least pretend to be supportive, Pete?"

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just a shock I guess. When do you go?"

"Next week," she paused when she saw the look on his face. "I know I should have told you sooner. I wanted too, really I did, but . . ."

"So soon?"

"I've got some additional exams. A prerequisite. I've been studying over the summer . . . "

Peter gave her a serious look. "You're sure about this aren't you," his voice was just a whisper.

Her tone was husky. "It's not forever."

Peter nodded at a loss for words. _"Tell her."_

"I'll be home for holidays and some weekends too."

_"Tell her," the voice was more insistent. "Say something. Anything to get her to stay."_

She gave him a soft nudge with her shoulder. "I need this, Pete. I'm not happy here. I haven't been for awhile now."

_"But, I'm here. What about me? I need you!" _He managed a sad smile. "I guess it'll be good for you." _"Lier."_

"I'm scared," she confessed. "The future is so . . . unknown. I don't want to screw up again."

"I know you, Claire, and you will go to California and find success beyond your wildest dreams."

"Thanks." She smiled shyly.

"I only worry about one thing."

She flashed her bright green eyes at him. "What's that?"

"How Nate will handle it . . . Having a potential paparazzo in his midst."

"Oh, come on! I'm interested in serious writing. What do you take me for?"

_"The most beautiful girl in the world. Why? What's it to you?" _

He pulled a small box from his pocket. "Here." He thrust the shiny gold present in her direction. "Happy Birthday, Tex."

"Thanks." She accepted his offering. "You haven't called me that in ages."

"Open it," he insisted.

She tore at the wrapping and opened the box to reveal a silver Celtic ring. "Oh, Pete. It's beautiful."

"It's called a Claddagh ring."

Claire nodded slowly, not taking her eyes from the contents of the box.

"With these hands," he began nervously, "I give you my heart and crown you with my love."

"Wh . . . What?" Her voice was shaky.

He held her gaze steady as he explained. "The symbol is an expression of Loyalty, Friendship and Love."

She looked up at him and smiled. "I don't know what to say . . ."

"Let me." He reached for the ring and held it up so she could see the symbol clearly in the moonlight. He took her right hand gently with his own. "If you wear it this way, it indicates that you've had your heart captured by someone." Next he turned the ring so the design was facing away from her. "Wear it this way, and it shows that you are open to finding someone new."

The air around them grew still. He held the ring at her finger tip as if he was taking the time to decide how it should be worn. Her green eyes roved his face in the pale moonlight, but his eyes did not meet her own. He slowly placed the ring delicately on her finger. Design facing outward.

"I guess now," his voice was suddenly hoarse, "you have it as something to remember me by." He stood up to leave.

"Pete, I'm not going to forget you . . . I could never forget you." She propelled herself toward him. He caught her awkwardly in his arms. Slowly, he relaxed and let her press herself against his lean frame. He let himself enjoyed the moment. Any guilty thoughts were for once, kept at bay.

He stared up into the night sky willing his heartbeat to return to it's normal rhythm. Claire kept her head on his chest. An eternity passing between them.

"This isn't easy for me." Tears glistened in her eyes. "I'll miss you . . ." _"More than you could ever know."_

He nodded. Eyelids blinking rapidly. He took a deep breath. "Good Luck, Claire Bennet."

* * *

"I can't believe its been three years," Claire breathed nervously.

"I know." Peter took a depth breath.

The boarding announcement for her flight rang out through the airport lounge.

"That's me." She stood up slowly, aware her surroundings were starting to get blurry. "Oh. I promised myself I wouldn't do this . . ."

"Hey." He touched her cheek. "It's not forever, right?"

"Right." She smiled through the pain. "Here I go." She hugged him and was awkwardly aware of eyes on her as she did so. More hugs followed.

"I'm so proud of you," Nathan whispered in her ear.

"Call us when you get there." Heidi instructed as she too blinked back tears.

Claire nodded, thankful she had already said her goodbyes to the boys back at the estate.

"Goodbye, Claire Bennet," Peter murmured one final time.

"Bye, Pete." She adjusted the strap across her shoulder and walked towards the departure gate. She stopped and turned for one last wave.

Their eyes lingered as if willing the other to turn away first. In the end it was Claire. He watched until she was gone from sight.

Peter closed his eyes, a startling image imprinted in his mind. The Claddagh ring. Not as he had placed it on her finger, but instead being worn with the design facing inward to show that her heart belonged to another. Full of sadness as it was, his heart rejoiced.

_**Peter: **Twenty years old, my niece and I loved her. A love that distance would not let fade away. _

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are love! Thanks for reading, Pip :)**


	17. Volume Five: Closer to Your Heart

**A/N: _This chapter jumps forward in time to 2012. Claire is now a graduate of Stanford. I had initially intended to write brief chapters to cover those years. However, I found it difficult and to be honest nothing vital to to the story occurs during this time. Plus, skipping ahead in time means we're now getting into, what I hope to be, the best parts of Peter and Claire's story. I just hope it does not seem disjointed. Thanks for reading, I really hope you enjoy it! Pip :)_**

**

* * *

**

**Closer to Your Heart:**

Summer 2012:

_**Peter: **Claire's Graduation was a highly anticipated event in the Petrelli Family. For myself, it meant an end to the distance between us. I'd been counting down the weeks until her return. When the time arrived, I was nervous. Sure, she'd been home plenty of times in the previous two years, but now it was for good. Would she be different? Would she still need me? Would it be the right time to tell her how I felt? Would there ever be a 'right time'?_

Peter Petrelli nodded politly as he watched the brunette's mouth move. Words, he had long stopped listening to. _"God, I can't even remember her name."_ His mind was consumed by Claire. _"Petrelli. Claire Petrelli."_ Ever since she dropped the surprise on them at her graduation ceremony, he couldn't get her name out of his head._ "Why should it bother me?" _He whipped his eyes away from the woman in front of him. A strange crept over him as he spotted Claire across the room. She had aged, albeit slowly, in the time she was away. She truly was an amazing soul. Poised, confident and beautiful. And, she was alone. _"Finally."_

Claire ran the rim of her champagne glass absently along her bottom lip. _"Who are all these people?" _Heidi and Angela mingled easily, but Claire could not bring herself to make idle chatter with strangers any longer. She focused her gaze on Peter. He was standing in a corner, deep in conversation with a tall brunette. He was close to the woman, listening intently. Claire sighed and moved her eyes again. Her father was commanding the conversation in the centre of the room. "_Politics." _She wrinkled her nose. Next, she followed a couple on the dance floor. They were laughing as they stepped and span the night away. _"If only-"_

A voice breathed in her ear. "Bored? At your own party?" Peter had suddenly appeared at her side.

"I don't even know half these people," she moaned. "Do you?"

He shrugged.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself though." She gave a light nod towards the brunette who was still making eyes at Peter. "Who would've thought?"

He followed her gaze. "Oh. Well, I guess things some things do change."

Claire nodded and took a sip from her glass.

"So how does it feel to be a Petrelli?" he asked.

"Oh you know. _Special._"

Peter gave a throaty laugh. "Good to have you back, Tex."

"I hope you don't mind."

"Mind? That you are a Petrelli now?"

Claire nodded.

"Of course not." He swallowed hard, but recovered well. "You've been part of this family for a long time."

"I was," she hesitated, "a little worried. Since it was sort of a surprise."

"Congratulations, again."

"Thank you."

He held out his hand. "Care for a dance?"

She smiled and her green eyes shone brightly. "Absolutely. What would I do without you?"

_"God, I've missed that smile."_ His heart jumped as she placed her hand gently in his.

**Claire:** _It was a beautiful night. It felt everlasting as Pete and I danced the night away. It was the perfect start. We had the whole Summer ahead of us. For once, I didn't worry about the future. I was so content in that moment I could have stayed there forever. After that night, Peter and I instantly returned to our inseparable ways. Everyone joked that they would never find one of us without the other. _

* * *

Claire took another spoonful of ice cream and let the creamy goodness linger on her tongue. She and Peter were hanging out in the Petrelli kitchen after dinner one night.

"What are you doing tonight Claire?"

"I'm was thinking that maybe I'd watch some retro movies."

"Like?" Peter

"Um . . ." She licked her spoon thoughtfully, "Sleepless in Seattle, An Officer and a Gentleman orTop Gun. Maybe The Breakfast Club . . . Dirty Dancing."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Dirty Dancing?"

"Yeah? What's wrong with that? It's an 80's classic."

"An 80's classic?" Peter almost choked on his ice cream.

"And what's your idea of an 80's classic? Die Hard? Terminator?"

"Hey, Terminator was a good-"

"Oh my God. Wouldn't it be cool if you had a power like that?" Claire's eyes shone with excitement.

"Sure, it would. But, Dirty Dancing? Retro? Why is it that when some says retro people automatically thing of the 80's. It's stupid. Were you even alive in the 80's?

"No. But-"

"That's my point exactly!"

"What?" She furrowed her brow. "Your point? You never made a point! How much of the eighties do you remember?"

He opened his mouth and then closed it again.

She took another scoop of ice cream. "Your point is weak, Petrelli."

"And your taste in movies is appalling, Petrelli." He winked at her.

The ate in silence for a few seconds. "So are you in?" she kept her eyes on her bowl.

"Sure. Why not?"

* * *

Peter awoke later that night. In the dim light he watched as a pajama clad shadow moved towards him.

"Claire?" He questioned. It was to be the only word that passed between them.

The sweet aroma of her perfume drifted over him as she slid between the sheets next to him. His breathing quickened when he saw her green eyes in the pale light. She reached for his hand and brought it up to her face. She kissed his finger tips and laid them on her cheek. His hand trembled as he caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes and exhaled softly. He hesitated, mesmerised by her. A smile formed on her soft lips. He held his breath to stop himself from kissing her. She rolled over and snuggled back into him. The softness of her hair brushed against his throat. He ran a hand lightly across her temple and down her neck. They stayed like that until dawn; when daylight came to break the spell between them. She was gone when he opened his eyes. This continued throughout the summer. Every few nights, Claire would come to him in the middle of the night for comfort, but would never stay beyond daybreak. They never spoke about it. Instead, they fed off the guilty ecstasy of their time in each others arms.

* * *

**Peter:** _That summer was love unspoken._ _I think it was around this time that we both realised the true extent of our feelings. We both worked hard to deny it. Never lingering in the others presence for too long among others. Our time alone was precious. We avoided talking about the about the future and let ourselves enjoy the summer; knowing that it would catch up with us eventually. Fate works in mysterious ways. It had thrown us together and torn us apart. Little did I realise, that Fate was conspiring to keep us apart again. Just when we thought we had achieved an equilibrium of understanding in our relationship, the future caught up with us. _

"Morning." Claire rubbed the side of her face as she entered the kitchen.

"Hey." His eyes followed her shapely body as she padded across the tiled floor to the refrigerator. She was dressed in tight blue shorts and a white tank top.

She helped herself to some cereal and settled on to a stool next to him. She sat and munched on a mouthful of cereal. Slowly, she leaned closer to him, straining to read the paper in front of him.

He smiled in her presence. "You want some to read?" He gestured towards the paper.

"Uh-uhm." She shook her head as she chewed.

He returned to reading the paper in front of him. After a moment, he felt the pressure of her shoulder on his arm. The close proximity of her body sent a warm wave of pleasure down his spine

He turned his head to her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded without sound and continued reading.

"There's mail for you, by the way . . . I think it's from France." He pointed to a letter on the sideboard.

This got her attention. She looked up at him, a confused look on her face. "France?" she questioned. "Oh." She got off her seat and picked up the envelope. Gingerly, she ran a slender index along the seal as if trying to decide if she should open it.

Peter was oblivious to her inner turmoil. "Got any plans this morning?"

"No."

"I thought I'd take Sam to the park. Want to come?"

"Sure." She pealed back the seal on the envelope and pulled several sheets of paper from inside. Her eyes roving the words. Suddenly, she let out a loud squeal. "Oh my God, Oh my God!"

"Claire," there was concern in his voice. "Are you okay?"

She turned and sprinted over to him, waving the paper around. "Yes. I'm a hundred times better than okay!"

"What is it?"

"Paris. I'm going to Paris. God, I thought I'd never get it. This is so amazing," she chatted excitedly.

"Paris? What?"

"This letter is from _Paris Life_." She waved the letter again. "It's a magazine for English speaking Parisians. Each year they have three internships for college grads. I got one! I can't believe it," she gushed.

Peter wrinkled his brow at her odd behaviour. "Congratulations."

"Paris!" Claire stepped backwards slowly and knocked over the stool she had just been sitting on. It landed with a hard smack on the floor. "Shit. Oops . . . Paris. This is incredible."

Peter reached down to help her as she bent to pick up the chair. "That's great Claire. When do you go?"

"I've got to be there by the twenty fifth."

Peter froze. "The Twenty-fifth? Claire, that's what? A week away?"

She caught the pained look in his eye and the smile slipped from her face.

He continued, "I'm going to Chicago tomorrow. I might not be back in time. How long will you be away for?"

Together, the lifted the stool back to an upright position.

"A year," she said quietly, unable to look away.

"A year?" Peter nodded slowly and took a few steps back. "Okay then . . . You never thought to mention . . ."

"I'm sorry. I never ever expected I would get this."

"Hey." He forced a lop-sided smile to his lips. "This is the opportunity of a life time, right?"

She bit her lowered lip and looked away. "Yeah . . ."

"What's all the commotion?" Heidi wandered into the kitchen.

"Claire's moving to Paris," Peter said coldly.

"Paris? What?" Heidi was obviously confused.

"I've been offered an internship," Claire began.

"Wow, that's fantastic Claire. Just wait until Nathan hears about this," she exclaimed after Claire had given her all the details of her new job.

"I know! It's unbelievable!" Claire was too caught up in the moment to realise that Peter had slipped silently from the room.

* * *

_**In the next Chapter of Volume Five: **The tension between Peter and Claire hots up, but will she move to Paris and leave him behind?_


	18. Volume Five: You and Me

**You and Me**

Summer 2012:

Claire and Peter walked in silence. Lost in their thoughts as they strolled leisurely through the local park. Claire was enjoying the sunshine as she pushing Sam along the shingle path.

"I think it's nice," she said quietly, "that our relationship grew stronger while I was in California."

"Do you think things will stay the same this time?"

"C'mon, Pete. This is my future we're taking about here. My Career."

He sighed deeply. "I know I just thought that, maybe, you'd get a job here in New York."

"Maybe I will someday."

They continued in silence. Together, they reached a set of swings. Peter knelt down and unbuckled Sam from the pushchair. Claire watched as the dark haired two year old grabbed her Uncle around the neck. _"He's so good with her," she mused._

He stood up and swung the small girl high into the air. She giggled as he set her down on the swing. "Hang on," he instructed as he curled her tiny fingers around the cool metal supports. He arched upwards and stood back from her. Inch by inch the swing slowly gained momentum. Sam laughed as she soared through the air.

Claire looked around to see if anyone was watching. "Pete, you should at least pretend you're pushing her."

Peter gave her a look of contempt, but said nothing. He had been moody since earlier that morning. Now, his frustration was evident. He begrudgingly relented to her request and made appear that he was physically pushing his niece on the swing. Claire repeatedly tried to get him to talk, but he was avoiding any real conversation. By the time they walked home a deep silence had descended upon them. Finally, Claire could stand it no longer.

"Pete? Are you okay?"

"Sure," he replied gruffly. "Never better."

Claire threw her hands up into the air. "You're leaving tomorrow. You might not see me again before I go to Paris. Doesn't that bother you a little?"

"Why? Does it bother you?" he shot back.

"We're not talking about me right now."

"It's fine." He turned and started walking up the stairs.

"Pete. This is silly. I don't want to spend the rest of my Summer at odds with you," she called after him.

"I said, it's fine . . . Okay?" He disappeared onto the second floor leaving Claire alone and wondering.

* * *

"Peter?"

"Huh?"

"Are you even listening to me?" Mohinder Suresh waved a hand in front of his friend's face.

"Sure." Peter nodded. "Of course."

"I have been your friend for many years, Peter Petrelli, and I can tell when you are lying. This is most certainly one of those times."

"It's nothing . . . really."

"Peter, you've been distracted since we got here. Just last night you almost let a shape shifter get the better of you."

Peter was silent for a moment, wrestling with his thoughts. "It's . . . it's Claire."

Mohinder sat down next to him. "What about Claire?"

"She's moving to Paris."

"Oh okay, and you don't want her to go?"

"I . . . it's just . . . it's complicated."

"Matters of the Heart always are." Mohinder gave an understanding nod.

"Wait-I never said-"

"It's okay, Peter." Mohinder looked him straight in the eye. "I won't judge you. You've been through a lot together." He lowered his voice, "In some Southern Indian communities marriage is common between cousins, even allowed between say . . . an _Uncle and a Niece."_

Peter looked despondent and shook his head. "It's not like anything ever could or would happen, between us I mean, but I can't bear to be without her again."

"Then you should at least tell her."

"I've tried. Oh, how I've tried, Mohinder."

"Then try again, before it's too late. When does she leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! Peter! Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I don't know what to say anymore." Peter's eyes filled with sadness.

Mohinder thought for a moment. "Somethings are better left unsaid. Don't tell her . . . show her."

* * *

**Peter:** _I rushed back to New York to surprise Claire and discovered that Mohinder was right. S__ome things are better left unsaid. _

"Come in," Claire replied to the knock on her door. She was startled when it opened to reveal a wide eyed Peter.

"Pete, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Chicago." A bemused expression spread across her pretty face.

"I needed to see you, before you go."

"Well, here I am. Packing." The room was chaotic. Suitcases, boxes and clothes were strewn about the room.

"Never mind that now."

"Come with me." He held out his hand.

She raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. "What about my packing? . . . Where are we going? Do I need to change first?"

"I'll help you later. Can't say and you've got ten minutes," he was breathless.

"Oh and Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"Dress nice," he added.

She met him outside the mansion eleven minutes later. She was wearing a strapless blue-green dress that stopped just above the knee. Her golden hair was swept up onto her head. He gave her one of his spectacular lop-sided grins when she approached him. Her heart melted.

"What is going on with you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He stepped forward, gently scooped her up into his arms and propelled both of them into the night sky.

For the next few hours they wined, dined and danced. Peter had arranged for a table at Claire's favourite restaurant. He charmed her with anecdotes of his life as a 'saviour to heroes'. She stared in awe at the man she knew as her best friend. He was polite, gracious and had a certain magnetism in his aura. Even the waitresses noticed him, but he only had eyes for Claire. After dinner, they visited a few clubs and pounded the dance floor. When Claire got sore feet, he flew them up to the Empire State Building. There, they sat and admired the spectacular view of the magnificent city of New York. Finally, both had to admit it was time to go home. Claire had an early flight.

Peter landed gently on the roof of the mansion. Claire resting peacefully in his arms.

"Dance with me," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, Pete. I would, but my feet . . ."

"Trust me."

He slowly started releasing her from his arms. Just when she thought her feet would touch the ground they stopped. It was like walking on a cushion of air.

"There's no music."

"Listen"

She heard it. Faint at first, then louder. The memorable tune of _'Don't Dream it's Over'_ floated towards them. She smiled at the memory. He twirled her away and then pulled her close to him. Butterflies burst through her abdomen as he held her gaze for a lifetime. Together they danced, in perfect form, across the roof. A perfect fit. The minutes seemed to last for hours until he spun her away and pulled her back. She arched her back as he lowered her toward the ground. Their eyes mingled, green and brown, locked together in the moment.

"Just when I think I know you . . . " Claire grinned as he pulled her up. "You never cease to amaze me, Peter. Thank you. Thank you so much, for tonight, for being here . . . It was just magical."

"It was nothing," he said proudly, letting her go. "I'm just happy to have given you a night to remember."

He let his eyes drift upwards as the conversation died.

"Pete."

"Yup." He was still looking up into the night sky.

She cleared her throat before she continued. "I kind of . . . Can't help, but get the feeling . . . That this is some kind of a date." She regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth.

"Date?" He squeaked the words, laughing to cover his true feelings. "Claire, I'm your Uncle."

Claire lowered her eyes. A small blush appearing on her cheeks.

He stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. "Claire, you're my best friend and you're leaving. I only just got you back and . . . Well, I thought it would be nice for us to have a night out together. So, lets save the emotional scenes for the airport tomorrow. Okay?"

She caught a small flash of remorse in his eyes, but it was gone in a instant. "Okay," she was a little relieved he had covered the brewing tension between them.

"I'm sorry if I gave you weird vibs or something."

"No, its just . . ." she frowned and shook her head. "Never mind."

He opened his arms. "Come here."

She moved closer and relaxed into his chest.

"Oh, I'm gonna miss you," he murmured softly, gently rubbing the small of her back.

She pulled away. "Now, that exactly what I'm talking about, Pete."

"What?"

"This! Us! Don't you think its a bit weird?"

"How so?"

"You're my Uncle. I'm your Niece. Is it not strange to you that we're so close?"

_"Don't push it, Claire."_ He frowned and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. "Maybe a little . . . I don't know."

An awkward silence bore down upon them.

"So what? So what if it is strange or unusual or whatever the hell you want to call it. But, it's us, Claire. You and Me. Our relationship was born out of the kind of circumstances normal people don't have to deal with. Now, you're leaving tomorrow and its tearing me up inside and I . . ." He delivered the speech with such passion it left Claire speechless.

She stared at him. He was the man she had loved for so long. The man who had saved her life all those years ago and many times since. A surge of emotion rushed through her body. She suddenly felt no inhibition. She put her arms around him and stared him deep in the eyes. He moved his face close to hers, gently running his lips across her forehead.

"I hate this part." There was desolation in his voice.

"What?" she questioned.

"I hate this part," he repeated. "Saying Goodbye."

"I'm sorry. I know its hard. I feel this gravitational pull to you and yet my life is always taking me in another direction."

"I guess we're just destined to have these fleeting moments together.

She stepped back. "Let's not do it."

"Do what?" He was clearly confused.

"Say goodbye," she explained. "Let's not do it."

"Claire, you're leaving for Paris in six hours. How exactly do you plan to avoid another goodbye here?"

"If we don't say it, then maybe its not real."

Peter exhaled showly. "But, if there was something more I could say would you-"

"No!" She stopped him abruptly. "Don't say anything Peter Petrelli. Not a word, not even a whisper. It always makes things complicated." She stepped into his arms for what would be the last time in months. "Just be with me. Here and Now. You and Me. No Ending. Just . . . part of the story."

* * *

Claire closed her tired eyes and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She tried in vain to imagine she was somewhere else. She hated airports. Hated the fact that they signalled yet another change in her complicated life. She wondered if Peter would stick to their pact. No goodbyes.

"Claire . . . " Peter's voice startled her.

He was right in front of her.

She stood up. "Pete. What are you doing-"

"I had to see you." His face was flushed. His breathing rapid. "I couldn't let you go without . . ." He took her by the arm and led her away from the boarding area.

"What's going on? How did you even get here?" she asked.

"What I came here to say is, I can't let you leave without a goodbye; a proper goodbye." His eyes were round, his voice husky.

Without missing a beat, he lent his face down and let his lips find hers. It was a kiss that took her breath away. It was everything she had imagined and more. Delightful. Passionate. Sinful. Her mind was flooded with the pure ecstasy of his touch. She responded by pushing herself into him and stretching her arms around his neck. His hands roamed her body as the kiss deepened. Breathless, Peter suddenly pulled away.

"Goodbye, Claire," his voice was only a whisper, but the words rang out inside her head.

"Miss? Excuse me, Miss." A voice through the haze. A hand on her arm.

Claire's eyes flew open and discovered she was still sitting, in the airline lounge, waiting to board her flight.

"Your flight's boarding," The stewardess politely reminded her.

"Th-Thank you," she stammered. _"A dream? No dream is that . . . vivid. Is it?" _A hand flew up to her face. She could still feel the warmth of his lips. _"Goodbye, Peter."_

* * *

**Peter: **_Twenty-two years old, my niece and I had done everything I could to show her I loved her. I had no way of knowing if it would be enough keep to me in her heart. I could only wait and hope._

* * *

**A/N: _A kiss, but not a kiss? Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading. Pip :)_**


	19. Volume Six: Un américain à Paris

**Un américain à Paris - An American in Paris**

Fall 2012:

**Claire: **_Paris was the most beautiful city I had ever seen. It's rich and colourful history was more than enough to keep one entertained. I adored my new position at the magazine, it was everything I dreamed it would be. Overall, I adjusted well and soon learned how to live like a true Parisian. However, as before, there was something missing. Eventually, I came to realise that Paris could also be a very lonely city. _

Claire Petrelli adjusted her shoelaces and headed out the door. She took a brisk five minute walk to the nearest Metro station. From there she caught the next train heading towards the Trocadero. Excitement hovered in her veins as she anticipated the sights and sounds awaiting her at Paris' most famous monument. Light on her feet, camera in hand, she sprang from the cramped carriage as soon as the doors opened. Following the stream of tourists from the station she made her way along the footpath. Catching her breath, she stepped forward into the morning sunlight. There it was, Tour Eiffel, as it was known in French. Towering above Champ de Mars, it was a truly glorious sight. She could hardly believe Paris was going to be her home for the next year, even though she was seeing it with her own eyes. She snapped a few photos before exchanging cameras with a young Asian couple. Together they laughed as they posed; like old friends sharing a special moment that transcended the obvious language barrier and ethnic differences. _"I can't wait to send this to Pete." _She strolled leisurely down the magnificent steps towards the Eiffel Tower that stood proudly ahead. She was overwhelmed by the size of the structure as she walked under the base. She positioned herself in the grassy park grounds and took in the sights around her. Tourists and Parisians alike, were taking the time to relax in the unusually sunny morning. Claire lay flat on her back and closed her eyes. Thoughts of home floated through her mind. An empty pit grew in her stomach when she thought of Peter. His smile, his laugh and his touch. Her heart ached at the reminder of the distance between them. _"He will always be there for you. He told you so," she told herself. "But, knowing that and experiencing it are two very different things. Oh, I hope I did this right thing, Pete. Wait for me, I will be home soon."_

* * *

It wasn't the first time Claire had had her life flash before her, and it was unlikely to be her last. However, this freeze in time could possibly have been avoided. If only she hadn't been thinking about _him_ when she stepped out from the kerb and into the path of the oncoming motor scooter. She braced for the impact as the squeal of tyres filled her ears. Nothing. She opened her eyes. In front of her the irate man waved his arms around. _"Okay. So, I might have been slightly at fault, but why are do scooter drivers think they own the road?"_ Inexplicably,_ s_he stared at him, noticing his handsome features and silky dark hair. His warm dark eyes. Then, she did something complete unusual, she smiled. Not just any smile. One of those silly goofy smiles she normally reserved for Peter. Their eyes met and he suddenly stopped waving his arms around. He simply steered the bike around her and carried on. She let her eyes linger after him, noticing he too was turning his head for one last glance. Claire tried desperately to wipe the expression from her face.

_"Weird. God, I miss you." _She carried on walking.

"Claire!" A woman's voice greeted her as she walked into the _Paris Life_ office.

"Bonjour, Jamie." Claire greeted the magazine's editor warmly. "Comment allez-vous?"

"Rushed off my feet as usual," she answered in English as she hurried away, her auburn hair bouncing as she strolled.

Claire smiled and walked up stairs. Her small corner desk was on the first floor. She settled herself into her desk chair and pushed her bag under the desk. Already getting into the office routine she set off in search of a coffee.

"Do you always play chicken with scooters or was this morning a one off for you?" A husky voice came from behind her.

She spun around. It was the dark haired man from the scooter. Helmet in one hand. Camera in the other. "_Just my luck . . ." she growled at herself. "He is kind of cute though . . . Idiot."_

She chose to ignore him. "I'm sorry," Claire offered a shy smile at the tall stranger, "I don't believe we've been introduced."

"I'm West," he held out his hand, "West Rosen, _Paris Life _photographer and you are?"

"Claire Petrelli." She took his hand.

"Petrelli? As in, New York Senator Petrelli?"

Claire inhaled sharply. "Yes."

West just nodded, a strange smirk on his face.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." He dropped his head down and started adjusting the lens on his camera.

Intrigued, she took a step closer. "Seriously. What?"

His brown eyes penetrated hers. "It's just . . . you don't seem like some New York rich kid, that's all."

His words caught her off guard and she was unsure how to reply. "Well, I'm-"

"No need to explain. I get it," he interrupted.

"Get what?" the irritation in her voice was rising.

"The reason you are here."

Claire folder her arms across her chest. "And what is that?"

"To prove something to Daddy."

"How dare you? You don't even know me."

"I know enough about the interns that come through here each year."

"If you're suggesting that I got here because of my family, you're wrong," she fumed.

West gave a half hearted shrug. "Maybe."

"I got this internship based on the merit of my work. Not some stupid connection to my biological father. For your information I was raised in Texas by my adoptive parents." She stormed off, but not before muttering a badly concealed "Jerk," under her breath.

West's eyes followed her as went.

"What did you say to her?" Jamie questioned as she appeared at his side.

"I don't know, but I like her." A sudden twinkle in his brown eyes.

* * *

Claire squinted as she tried to focus on the computer screen in front of her. Angrily, she tapped the back space button a couple of times. _"Stupid French keyboard. I'll never get this stupid report done."_

Suddenly, a sweet smelling pastry appeared in front of her face. She was about to smile when she realised who was on the other end of it.

"Peace offering?" West asked.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Why should I accept anything from you?"

"'Cos Jamie just gave us a new assignment."

"Us?" Claire swallowed hard. The last thing she wanted to be doing was working with an arrogant jerk like West.

"Yep." West smiled as he watched her face fall. He picked up her cream coloured coat from the back of her chair.

"B-But why would Jamie put me on an assignment with you? I'm just an intern." She let him slip the coat around her shoulders.

"It's nothing big. Just heading down to the Latin Quarter to check out a new restaurant . . . plus I vouched for you."

"Why?"

"'Cos I like you, Claire." He gave her an annoying squeeze around the shoulders. "You're the first intern I've come across with half a brain."

"Gee, thanks." Claire gritted her teeth.

* * *

Claire was starting to regret her decision to take the internship at _Paris Life. _However, she consoled herself with the fact that West Rosen would probably not be the only person she disliked working with after choosing a career in journalism. He had been irritating her for days now.

"I'm not going anywhere on that!" Claire announced when she realised West was suggesting they take the scooter to their assignment.

"Why not?"

"After the way you drove that thing the other day. No way."

"The way I drove? After you stepped out in front of me, the way I drove saved your pretty little arse." He had a point there.

"Whatever." She climbed on the bike and put her arms around him. He repositioned them so she held him tighter.

"Wouldn't want you to fall off," he muttered.

Claire bit her lip as they pulled out into the traffic. She found her heart beating faster as she pressed herself into West's muscular back. Despite of herself, she enjoyed the ride there. It was truly a great way to get around. Surprisingly, she found that she was smiling by the time they arrived at the restaurant. West looked her up and down, but said nothing.

The next few hours rushed by as they interviewed the American owner and his beautiful french wife. Claire observed West and the woman making eyes at each other. The other man was oblivious as he enthused about his life and restaurant. Much to Claire's surprise, West was completely professional. He was a competent journalist and an even better photographer. He was even being nice to her.

"You were pretty good in there," she conceeded as they exited later that afternoon.

"I know." He grinned.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Can we go now?"

"Fine."

After a few minutes, Claire became aware they weren't heading in the direction of the office.

"Where are we going?" she yelled.

"Thought you might like to take a walk. Since, you seem to hate my scooter so much."

West parked the bike and helped Claire off. He took her by the hand and started leading her down the road. After a few minutes they passed through some large gates and into a large garden. The calming effect of the beautiful surroundings was instantaneous. Claire felt her breathing slow and she took in the sights around her. As the walked, Claire discovered the garden was filled with a multitude of bronze statues. There were statues of animals, famous people and figures from Greek mythology.

"Where are we?"

"Luco," West explained. "Jardin du Luxembourg."

"It's beautiful."

"I know." He removed the lens and started capturing the images around them.

"Why?"

"I like to come here and take photos. It's constantly changing. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter. No moment is the same."

Claire laughed softly. "Look, the statue of Liberty." A sudden pang of home sickness filled her stomach.

West trailed behind her as she went to investigate the statue. He would pause every few metres when something new caught his eyes. After a few moments, he flicked the camera's attention to Claire.

"West," she rolled her eyes as she smiled. "Cut it out."

He ignored her.

"I mean it," she couldn't hide the joy in her voice.

West captured her mood proudly. They wandered the garden for another twenty minutes before reluctantly heading back to the office.

"Thank you," she murmured when the reached the office.

West gave her a smile and said nothing. It had been an eye opening afternoon.

* * *

"You know, Claire, you're the first _Paris Life_ intern that I can have a real conversation with." West stated as they sat down to lunch a few weeks later.

"Ha! That's because you slept with all the female interns and then never called them. I probably wouldn't talk to you after that either. As for the guys, well, it's only natural they wouldn't want to be friends with you."

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Claire smiled proudly. "Jaime warned me about you."

"Can I help it if I have a certain . . . magnetism?"

Claire burst into a fit of giggles.

"What?" He looked genuinely offended.

"Magnetism? This is Paris. You only need to show girls a camera and they'll follow you into bed."

"Hey," he frowned, "there's more to me than that."

"Like?" Claire gave him a questioning stare. "And don't say your good looks."

"There's my . . . and . . . I'm-"

"I'm waiting." Claire tapped her fingers on the table.

"So I'm good in bed . . . is there anything wrong with that?"

"I'll have to take your word for it on that one." She winked at him.

"Claire. Claire. Claire." He shook his head. "That's not the attitude."

"You and me? Are you serious?"

"Why not?"

"Well, for a start you're into girls with big boobs, short skirts and small brains. I'm . . ." she hesitated.

"You're what? Single?"

"I'm . . . I'm just not . . . looking . . . And I'm definitely not looking for what you're looking for."

"And what am I looking for?"

"You know."

He pressed her further. "And that would be?"

"A one night stand."

He laughed. "Who said anything about a one night stand, Claire?"

Claire blushed a little, even though she knew he was joking. She was about to answer when her cell phone rang. She extended her hand to answer it, but was beaten by West.

"Hello, Claire's phone," he cooed.

Claire shot him an unimpressed look.

"Senator Petrelli . . . " he paused. "This is West."

"Give it back," she hissed.

"Claire? Oh, she's fine. Just a little busy right now."

"That's it." She scrambled to her feet reaching out over the table. "Give it back." Effortlessly, he moved out of her reach.

"Of course. I'll give her the message . . . Nothing, why?" West grinned as he listened. "Sure, I'd love to."

Claire sat back down, folded her arms and glared at him.

"Okay, I will . . . Ha ha, you too. Goodbye." West hung up.

"What?"

"What a really nice guy."

"West! The message."

"I can't wait to meet him. Oh yeah . . . the message. Call your Dad."

Claire stared at him strangely for a few seconds. "What do you mean 'You can't wait to meet him'?"

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot. He invited me dinner at your place . . . You never told me you were going home in a few weeks."

Claire's mouth dropped open. "He didn't . . . no." Her eye widened in horror. "And you agreed? Are you crazy? Wait don't answer that."

* * *

**Claire: **_My friendship with West grew steadily over the final months of 2012. As long as he kept his ego in check, he was a genuinely nice person. However, one winter night would change our relationship forever._

It happened in a split second. One second she was casually walking down stairs and the next she was crumpled in a heap at the bottom. A sharp stab of pain shot through her lower leg as she struggled to get up. A small white bone protruded from the skin just above her ankle. She slumped back down and watched her thick red blood ooze from the fracture. She hurridly tried to push the fragment back into place, but it was stubborn. West flew around the corner alerted by the sound of her fall.

"Claire," he cried out, rushing towards her.

"I'm okay."

"Let me see." Concern filled his eyes.

"No."

He watched her grimace in pain. "Claire, don't be so stubborn."

Slowly, he withdrew her fingers from the wound.

"Claire, your ankle is broken . . . C'mon." He put a supportive arm around her shoulders and helped her to a nearby chair.

"I'm okay," she repeated.

He looked around the empty office for a few seconds. "Wait here, I'm calling you an ambulance." He moved away.

"No. West, wait. Please."

Sensing the urgency in his voice he paused, phone in hand.

Claire bent down and forcefully thrust her ankle back into place, grimacing as she did so. West stared at her dumbfounded. Slowly, he returned the phone to the cradle. Their eyes met and lingered.

West opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Shock imprinted on his handsome face.

Gingerly, she stood up. "I . . . I can explain." Carefully, she started walking towards him, a fearful look in her eyes. "You have to promise me . . . You can't tell anyone about this."

A surprising smile crept across his face. "Wow, this is . . ."

She cringed. "Don't say it."

"Great." His words confused her.

"What?" she asked, stunned by his reaction.

"You healed."

"Yeah." She furrowed her brow.

He held out his hand. "C'mon."

"But, where-"

"Trust me."

Claire took a deep breath and let him pull her through the office and out into the alleyway at the rear of the building.

"West, what are we doing out here?" she was becoming increasingly concerned at the obvious look of excitement in his eyes.

"I thought I was the only one," he explained. "You have no idea how incredible this is," he said breathlessly.

She shook her head. "Wait? What? I don't understand?"

Claire's eyes widened as he scooped her up into his arms and together they flew upwards into the night. The grand city of Paris sparkled below them, but in the darkness they only had eyes for each other.

"This isn't your first experience of human flight is it?" West eyed her up after they landed on her apartment roof.

Unable to hide her past, she shook her head lightly. "My Dad can-"

"The Senator?" he interrupted.

She nodded. "And Peter, my Uncle."

West ran a hand through his thick black hair. "This is amazing. Others like me . . . Are there more people out there like you?"

"Yes."

He took a few deep breaths. "I don't know what to say . . . How?"

Claire began to tell him the story of how she discovered her powers when she was sixteen, how she helped save the world and the real story of how she came to live with her biological family.

"So, it's like a family thing for you?"

"Yeah. I guess it is."

"All these powers out there and I had no idea. Here I was thinking I was some sort of freak."

Claire shot him a look.

"Hey!"

"I didn't say anything," she protested.

"But you were thinking it."

Claire laughed softly and his face relaxed into a smile.

"I'm glad I met you, Claire Petrelli."

When she didn't answer, he pulled her close and gently brushed his soft lips against hers.

"West," she whispered, surprised at her reluctance to pull away from him.

"You're freezing," he observed. "Let's go inside."

She nodded silently as she followed him. _"This changes everything."_

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. So much to tell and I wanted to get it just right! I hope the fact this is a significantly longer chapter than usual will make up for it. Hope you enjoy reading - Pip :)**

_**In the next chapter of Volume Six: Truth, Lies and West.**_ _Claire and West travel to New York as a new development has implications on the future of her relationship with Peter._


	20. Volume Six: Truth, Lies and West

**Truth, Lies and West**

Winter 2012:

**Claire: **_West and I grew close in the days following the revelation of our powers. Being so far from home, it was nice to have someone to share the secret with. I think he felt the same. The intial loneliness I had felt in Paris was beginning to subside. I would never have admitted it at the time, but my relationship with Peter was feeling the strain. We filled our conversations with pleasentries about anything and everything to avoid the real questions that remained between us. Eventually the conversations grew shorter and less frequent. I had hoped my upcoming visit to New York would reinvigorate our relationship, but it was not to be._

"Claire," West Rosen called out from the next room.

"Yeah?"

"Can you get my passport please. It's in the top drawer of my bedside cabinet."

"Okay," she called back to him. She smiled and shook her head as she checked her watch. The taxi would be here in five minutes and he was still packing. She wandered into his bedroom, marvelling at how someone so disorganised had such a tidy bedroom. Carelessly, she pulled open the drawer and started searching for his passport. After an initial sweeping search with her hand she was unable to produce the travel document. She rolled her eyes. Reaching into the drawer again she pulled out a large pile of papers, tipping them onto the floor in her haste. Among them she found one very worn looking American passport. _"Aha." _She got down onto her knees and was starting to gather up the remaining papers on the floor when something caught her eye. A photograph. In fact, several photographs were scattered across the carpet next to his bed. Surprised, she picked one of them up for closer inspection. The subject of the photo was a pretty blonde. She was smiling as she held up her hand to try and ward off any more snaps. It was obvious that this tactic had not worked as she was in all the the photographs. _"Me? But, when?" _Claire cast her mind back and suddenly remembered their impromptu visit to Jardin du Luxembourg. _"All of me."_

"Did you find it?" His voice startled her.

She dropped the pictures and stood up quickly. "Yes."

"Well?" He raised an eyebrow at her stunned expression.

"Here." She tossed his passport to him, suddenly aware he couldn't see the photos from his position in the doorway.

"Thanks."

She watched him disappear before turning her head back to the images on the floor next to her feet. A sudden warm feeling rushed from her head to her toes as she remembered the feeling of West's soft lips on hers. _"It's just a head rush, you idiot." _She refused to believe it was anything other than her reaction to standing up too quickly.

* * *

Peter Petrelli's heart stopped when he saw her. Years had passed since their first meeting and still the sight of her still made him breathless. He was unaware that he too had a similar effect on Claire. She was all too familiar with the butterflies that filled her stomach. They grinned warmly at each other as they hurried to remove the space between them.

He enveloped her in a tight hug. He relished the feel of her body against his and the fragrant smell of her perfume. They separated slowly, neither wanting to be the first to look away. It was Peter who did so first. The small flick of his dark eyes reminded Claire they were not alone.

"Pete, this is West Rosen," she started the introductions.

"Nice to meet you."

"West," Peter repeated as he shook the younger man's hand. Nathan had warned him Claire was bringing a friend. A male friend. He felt suddenly inadequate as he studied the taller man's handsome face. _"No wonder Claire likes him." _A sharp pang of curiosity filled his chest as he watched them leave the airport. West politely offering to carry her bags. Claire politely accepting. _"That should have been you . . ." _The drive to the Petrelli Estate seemed uneventful, but Peter quickly felt like a third wheel. It caused an array of unanswered questions to emerge in the far corners of his mind.

* * *

"Need some help?" Claire stood in the kitchen doorway, wine glass in hand.

"Sure, _Tex._" Peter was leaning over a small chopping board. He smiled warmly when he saw her. "You could make a salad . . . if you like."

Claire nodded as she rolled up her sleeves. "It's nice of you to cook dinner for us, Pete."

"I try." He shrugged and returned to the meat he was dicing. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Claire gathered some lettuce from the fridge and set about creating a fresh salad. He was surprised by how effortlessly his mood improved in her presence.

"So how is Paris?"

"Amazing, beautiful, the best city in the world," she gushed.

"Best city in the world? What about New York?"

"New York is . . ." She took a sip of wine.

"New York is what, Claire?"

"Cold. New York is cold," West's voice boomed as he entered the room. Peter followed him with a wary eye.

"You would say that," Claire smirked.

"What's cooking?" West asked as he put his right hand softly on Claire's back. Peter's eyes bulged.

"Lamb Pesto Kebabs with Italian sauce," Peter stated.

West, oblivious to Peter, hadn't taken his eyes from Claire. "Pretty good looking salad you got there. Can I help?"

"No," Peter's tone was icy.

Claire's eyes met his with questions.

"I-I mean . . . Um, you're a guest here, West. We've got it all under control."

"Pete's right. Go and relax."

Pete watched in horror as West planted a quick kiss on her forehead. "Whatever you say, babe."

"B-Babe?" Peter stammered after the other man had left.

Claire froze. "He's just a friend," she lied. "A good friend." Truthfully, she didn't know how to define her relationship with West anymore. "We work together."

"Oh, cos it just seems like . . ."

"Well, it's not." She couldn't meet his curious gaze.

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly. "If it was . . . I mean if it is . . . It'd be okay." _"You know damn well it wouldn't be okay."_

Claire stared at him for a second. "I'm not interested in West." _"Who are you trying to convince?"_

Peter let his lips curl into a relieved smile as he resumed cooking. _"Maybe?"_

* * *

The grounds of the Petrelli Estate were covered in a layer of fresh white snow. Claire emerged from the house and took a deep breath of fresh air. A Texan girl at heart, she marvelled at how much she loved a New York Winter. She heard giggling behind her, then something flashed past her legs. Almost three, Samantha Petrelli had clearly mastered the art of running. A slightly puffed Heidi appeared beside her.

"C'mon Mommy," the bubbly dark haired girl called.

Heidi smiled at Claire, before taking off after her youngest child.

"Where are Simon and Monty?" Claire asked.

"Simon stayed at a friend's house last night, but he'll be back for the charity banquet tonight. Monty is still sleeping."

"Sleeping?" Claire queried.

"Yeah. Getting into that teenage phase early I guess."

Claire started to wonder if her young half brother's behaviour was a bit odd. Those thoughts quickly disappeared when a firm ball of snow crushed against her left arm. She looked around and spotted her culprit. But, it was not whom she might normally have suspected.

"Good to see you dear," Angela Petrelli strolled through the snow towards her, a smug look on her elegant face.

"Angela," Claire greeted her Grandmother.

"Are we still going dress shopping?"

"Of course," she replied. Another snowball impacted just above her hip. "After I . . ." she reached down into the soft white powder, "pulverize West." She hurled a snowball in his direction and to her delight it hit him square in the chest.

"Oh, you've had it now! This means war!" West's brown eyes sparkled.

Peter was attracted by the sound of raucous laughter. He watched Claire through the window as she played in the snow with West and the other Petrelli women. A series of images flashed behind his eyelids. Another snowball flight. Another time. How simple everything had seemed back then. A short squeal brought him back to reality.

"West! Put me down!"

West had Claire over his shoulder and was spinning her around. They whirled around for a few more seconds before both toppled to the ground. Claire was laughing so hard she couldn't speak.

Peter was sick to the stomach and it was bound to get worse before the day was over. Her smile, normally a comfort to him, tore at his heart. _"Tonight, I will suffer in silence no more."_

* * *

"Claire, I love you and I can't live without you." Peter shifted nervously on the spot.

"Claire, I need you like I've never needed anyone before." Peter scowled at his reflection. "This is ridiculous. It's just Claire. She doesn't want to hear cliched rubbish from you." He adjusted his tie. There was a knock on the bathroom door.

Nathan appeared. "What are you doin in here, Pete? The limo is here."

Peter gritted his teeth. "Just fixing this stupid tie."

Nathan sighed. "Here. Let me." He pulled his brother closer and expertly pulled the tie into position. "There." He slapped his younger brother on the back. "Almost as handsome as me."

Peter couldn't help but smile.

"Don't worry Pete, I'm sure you'll have all the girls after you," Nathan stated as he moved to the door.

_"There is only one I want . . ." _Peter followed his brother, anxiously wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers as he went.

* * *

_"She looks so amazing tonight." _Peter was finding it increasingly difficult to take his eyes off her. Claire was stunning in a black silk gown. The straight cut showed off her hour glass figure to perfection.

"Claire, you look so elegant, so grown up in that dress." Peter pulled her close as they spun around the dance floor.

She looked smug. "You say that every time we're in formal wear."

"It's the truth." Peter locked his eyes on hers.

"Well, all thanks should go to Angela. Who knows what would happen if I was left to my own devices?"

"I want to talk to you," he breathed.

"We're talking now aren't we?" she laughed softly. _"Oh, Pete. Always the enigma."_

"Alone," his voice was husky.

Something in his tone and manner made her restrain from asking any further questions. Instead, she let him steer her around the hall unaware of the envious eyes that followed them.

* * *

"Claire."

Claire turned, expecting Peter. It wasn't. Instead her curious green eyes fell into West's.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice was shaky.

She nodded wordlessly as a tight knot formed in her stomach. "_Since when does West get nervous around women?"_

"Beautiful night." He cast his eyes skyward.

"Yes." His hand reached for hers.

"You're cold," he exclaimed.

She didn't resist when he pulled her close and let his mouth caress hers. The kiss, while mesmerising, was surprisingly expected. She could not deny how close they had grown over the past weeks.

He released her and stepped back. His eyes thoughfully searching hers.

She raised a trembling hand to her forehead. "West . . . I-I'm just . . . I should probably . . ." Claire was flustered by his affections and the right words escaped her.

"Before you say anything more, I just want you to know that the past few weeks have been some of the best of my entire life."

"West . . ." her voice stumbled as she said his name again.

"I like you, Claire." He smiled nervously. "I was hoping that you felt the same."

"Oh." Her eyes were finally seeing what she already knew in her heart.

West watched her expectantly. An expression of hope on his face. It changed slowly as a dark silence descended upon them.

"I know you think I'm just some second-rate guy. A womaniser or whatever. But, I'm so much more when I'm with you, Claire."

She gave a sudden high pitched laugh.

"Are you laughing . . . at me?" There was a flash of anger in his eyes.

"No-" she said quickly. "It's not that." She reached out, realising he misunderstood her.

His eyes softened as he awaited her reply.

"All the men in my life seem to put me on a pedestal and worship me. Then, when they realise I'm not who they thought, well, love goes cold so quickly around me . . ." She fidgeted with her dress.

"I know you, Claire and I want to be part of your life . . . No matter what that means, I'll always be there for you."

"You need to know, West. A great deal has happened to me over the last few years. Some of it you know and some I'm just not ready to tell."

"I want you, Claire," he said boldly. "Not your past, only your future."

"I . . . I'm just not sure what I want right now."

"Is there someone else?"

She answered quickly. "No, but-"

"It's okay," he said softly as he cast his eyes downward. "I understand."

"No . . . No," she exhaled deeply. "It's been awhile since someone has kissed me like that," she giggled again. "I'm still light headed."

"Oh, and was it okay?"

Claire couldn't help but blush. "Better than okay." She smiled reassuringly.

A sudden radiant glow appeared in his eyes and his mouth betrayed a somewhat relieved smile. "Does that mean . . . ?"

She nodded, still a little unsure of herself. "Yes. I think it does." Little butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she returned his nervous smile. "But, lets take it slow. I couldn't bear to lose you if this doesn't work out."

"You have all the time you need."

They kissed awkwardly in the dim light of the courtyard, unaware that their entire conversation had been overheard. Moonlight scattered through the trees, filtering down on the partially hidden figure of a man. Peter had listened, the expression on his face growing more and more pained by the second, as Claire returned West's affections. Unable to bear it any longer he retreated hastily into the darkness. _"You're an idiot, Peter Petrelli. What on earth possessed you to even entertain the idea? You're a damned idiot."_

* * *

"I miss you at brunch yesterday."

"Something came up." He avoided her gaze.

"I'm sorry I never got to talk to you on Saturday night. I looked for you, but . . . you must have left early. I feel like we've barely seen each other."

"That's okay." He lowered his eyes. "It wasn't really important anyway."

"Oh." Claire frowned at him. "Have . . . Did I do something to upset you?"

"No," he whispered softly. "Never."

"So we're okay?"

"Of course," he lied, pulling her in for a hug.

"Are you sure?" Claire eyed him suspiciously.

His eyes bore into hers as he nodded. "You'll miss your plane."

Claire let a relieved smile slip across her face. "See you next year."

Peter stood and watched her leave, a dull ache forming in his chest. _"It's better this way, and you know it." _It took a great deal of inner strength for him to watch her walk away as he had done so many times in the past. _"This is the last time it will feel like this," he promised himself. "This will be the last time she walks away with your heart."_

* * *

_**A/N: Some Review Responses - Bellagirl008:** Thanks for your great review - It really got me thinking about Claire's motivation (and the other characters too). Basically, I've been trying to show a side of Claire that becomes increasingly affected by her failed relationships. Whether it's due to their inadequacies or her own, the underlying factor here is Peter and that she can neither fully admit to or move past her love for him. Gosh, that sounds a bit deep for fanfic, but you really got me thinking!  
There is truth in what you say, she didn't react that badly to her (attempted) rape and so it is a deviation from her character. However, at some point with AU all characters begin to evolve as the story progresses. __**Madam Thalia, bluestriker666, angelinathestrange, Aneesa and dragoneyes5000: **You are my much appreciated regular reviewers. So a big thank you to you also!_

_**In the next Chapter of Volume Six: My Hearts Desire. **Peter moves on and Claire realises that she cannot._

* * *


	21. Volume Six: My Hearts Desire

**My Hearts Desire**

Late Winter 2013:

Claire Petrelli was late. Her mind filled with words as she imagined her kind apologies. _"Excuses more like." _She shrugged off the thought, refusing to believe there was any deeper meaning to her being late for lunch with West. She had just emerged from a Metro station when her cellphone rang.

She answered quickly. "I'm so sorry. I'm almost there. I just-"

"Claire?"

"Dad?" It certainly wasn't West's voice on the other end of the phone.

"Since when do you call me Dad?" Nathan asked.

Flustered, she struggled to regain her composure. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Huh?" he inquired.

"Sorry. I'm in kind of a hurry." Her suede boots pounded along the pavement as she spoke. "Can I ask what this call is about?"

"I just wanted to chat."

"Chat? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"No . . . Actually I'm looking after Monty."

"Monty? What's wrong with him."

"Oh, just a fever."

"And you're looking after him?"

"Yes."

"Where is everyone else?"

"Well, Mom's in California. Pete's in Ireland, but I guess you already know that . . . And Heidi's taken Simon and Sam shopping."

Claire came to an abrupt halt. She pushed the phone closer to her ear and clasped a gloved hand over her other, trying to drown out the traffic noise. "Did you . . . Did you just say that Pete is in Ireland?"

"He's in Cork. Looking for an old friend I believe. Didn't he tell you?"

"No. No, he didn't."

"I'm sure it was just an oversight on his part."

"Yeah, probably." Claire bit her lip. Hard.

Silence ensued. Nathan cleared his throat.

"I should probably go," she mumbled.

"Wait! There's probably something you should-"

"Sorry." She started walking again. "I really must go."

"Clai-"

She interupted him. "Tell Monty to get better soon. I'll call you tomorrow."

Claire hung up, surprised at her own abruptness. _"Ireland. Pete's in Ireland!" _The words circled in her head as she started walking towards her destination, Jardin du Luxembourg. _"Why didn't you tell me?"_

* * *

Claire eyed the beautiful picnic before her as a sudden empty feeling developed in the pit of her stomach. "I thought we were going to a cafe for lunch."

West smiled at her. "I . . . I wanted to surprise you."

She nodded politely. "It's lovely."

West eyed her suspiciously. "Are you okay?"

"Sure." She sat down opposite him and avoided his gaze.

"Claire, I know you well enough to know when something is wrong." He knelt in front of her.

"Oh, West." Her voice wavered as she spoke. "I-I can't do this."

He looked around. "We can go to a cafe. It's no problem."

Claire took a deep breath. "No. I mean this. 'Us'."

West froze, his eyes locked onto her face, disbelieving her words.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped.

"There's someone else." His dark eyes drifted from hers.

"I never meant for you to get hurt. It's just . . ."

"You love him." There was understanding in his voice.

Claire nodded, a solitary tear slipping down her right cheek. "I've loved him for so long and . . . He has no idea."

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Claire. I love you," he said quietly. "Even if you do not feel the same."

Claire screwed up her face. "You have been so kind to me and I am such a fool. Please. Please tell me you'll forgive me."

"Of course. I could never be angry at you." West placed his hands gently on her arms. "We are both fools in love."

"Thank you."

"Forgiveness comes with one condition," he stated.

"Oh?" she wondered.

"How is it that he has no idea of your feelings for him?"

She sighed and brushed a blond lock of hair from her eyes. "It's complicated."

"How so? Is he married?"

"No. _"Worse." _

"Well, what is it?"

"He just doesn't think of me _that way._"

"A man who did not fall in love with you the instant he met you? I doubt that very much."

Claire's pale green eyes fluttered under West's intense gaze. The Cheerleader and the Stranger. Her heart quivered at the memory.

West cocked his head to the side as he observed her reaction.

"Is it . . . It's Peter, isn't it?" The realisation was sudden.

"I . . . ah," she breathed, realising she had underestimated West's powers of perception. "I have no idea how to answer without you thinking I'm some lunatic."

"I might not think the best of you right now, but you are hardly a lunatic."

She smiled weakly. "How did you . . . ?

"It's obvious you and Peter have a connection that goes deeper than family. A shared destiny."

"Some destiny. I think I am going to be forever tortured by my feelings for him . . . If you had any idea how long I have tried to bury them."

"You should tell him. Tortured or not, Claire, I think he deserves to know."

"But, what if he is repulsed by me? I couldn't bare to lose him."

"Repulsed? I cannot imagine any man turning you down."

Claire bit her lip. Hard. "He is my blood. What kind of a relationship or life could we ever have?"

"You can regenerate, he has the potential for limitless power, I think that alone transcends the social stigma of your union."

She stared at her fidgeting hands for a moment. "For so long all I wanted was a normal life. A normal family. A normal job . . ." her voice cracked, "and a normal boyfriend. Now, I cannot even imagine what that would be like."

"I'm sure normal is overrated."

"I ha-have to go." She got to her feet. "I'm so sorry. For everything."

West nodded. "I know. Good Luck."

* * *

**Claire: **_Caught up in my conversation with West, I flew to Dublin on the first flight I could get. My plan was to stay one night in the city and then travel to Cork the following day. I had no idea what I was going to say. I just knew I had to find Peter. I told myself it would be easier to confess my love in a foreign country, that maybe it would be easier, without distractions. The trip, as it turned out, was revealing. But not in the way I would have expected._

A voice in the crowd suddenly startled her. "Claire . . . Claire . . ." She would have known his voice anywhere.

She whirled around. Eyes searching the faces around her. A strong hand gripped her arm, sending her heartbeat racing.

"Pete!" She flashed him her sexiest smile. _"What is he doing here? This truly is fate."_

"Claire." He looked her up and down. "What are you doing here?" He grinned down at her as she hugged him closely.

"I came to see you actually." He looked good. Extremely good. Her stomach did an impetuous flip-flop. _"God, I've missed that smile."_

"How?"

"Nathan. You should have told me you were in Ireland."

"I just figured you'd be . . . busy."

Claire was about to speak again when she noticed a dark haired woman had appeared behind him. She watched, stunned, as Peter took her by the hand and pulled her closer to him.

"Claire," he began, "this is Caitlin-"

His next two words shattered her fragile heart.

"My Fiancee."

The world around her stood still as her misjudgement of the situation hit her with full force.

Peter smiled as he said it. "My Fiancee."

The smile on Claire's face froze as she let his words sink in. Her eyes drifted away from him to the dark haired woman. Caitlin. His Fiancee. _"Fiancee? This has got to be some sort of a joke. Pete, what are you thinking?" _

"Wow," she announced hesitantly, "Congratulations!"

Claire watched in horror, the superficial smile still stuck to her lips, as Peter bent closely to Caitlin and kissed her on the lips. Caitlin smiled shyly as he pulled away, but never said a word.

She blinked several times, as if trying to erase the words and images that followed. She stumbled blindly through the conversation; resisting the urge to vomit.

* * *

Claire scolded herself as she approached the inky black door of Caitlin's home. Somehow, she had managed to let Peter talk her into having dinner with them. She had spent the afternoon jogging circles in Phoenix Park. She had been valiantly resisting the instinct telling her to flee and get on the first plane back to Paris. She frowned as she mentally prepared herself for the night ahead.

She knocked with a forced hand. Peter welcomed her in and politely took her coat.

She let her eyes drift around the apartment. "_Her apartment." _Claire couldn't bring herself to even think his fiancee's name. Let alone say it. She mumbled a half hearted hello when she was greeted in the kitchen.

"Claire. It's very nice to see you again." Mohinder Suresh smiled warmly when he saw her. She suddenly wanted to cry.

"Claire, there's someone I'd like you to meet." Peter dragged her into another room.

A tall man stood up in front of her.

"Claire, this is Claude . . ." He looked over at the tall man. Claude shook his head. "Claude, is the reason I'm back in Ireland."

"Claude. Nice to meet you." Claire was as polite as she could be.

Claude narrowed his frosty grey eyes and then frowned at her for a moment. "I didn't know your brother had a girl, Peter."

"A long story." Peter smiled as he spent the next half an hour explained how Claire had become part of the Petrelli Family.

"I grew up in Texas," Claire added, taking a sip of beer. They were all seated around the dining table.

"Odessa . . ." Claude murmured.

"Yes." Claire paused. "With my adoptive parents. How did you know that?"

A flicker of recognition flashed through Claude's steely grey eyes, but it was gone quickly. "A lucky guess. I've been there . . . Once, a very long time ago."

The others started at him curiously.

"It was hot." Deadpan. They all chuckled before someone changed the subject.

For the rest of the evening Claire watched Caitlin very closely, determined to discover her secrets. She was attractive in an unconventional way. Soft spoken, with appealing emerald eyes. Her complexion was pale, but accentuated by the burgundy shade of her full lips. _"She smiles a lot." _Claire thought as she scrutinised Caitlin's interaction with Peter and the others. Eventually, she began to realises that trying to find fault in Caitlin was pointless. _"She's perfect, Pete. How could I ever compete with that?"_

* * *

"Caitlin seems nice." Claire stared at her feet as she shivered in the chilly night air.

"Oh, she is," Peter agreed with her. "Just wait til you get to know her, Claire. She's amazing."

_"I'm sure she is," Claire mused. "Oh, Pete. Tell me this is all a bad dream. Say you will be mine forever."_

"Your friend Claude is, um, how do I put this . . . Interesting," Claire said.

"Oh, Claude. He's always like that."

"He kept staring at me, Pete."

"Maybe he likes you."

"Ew, gross. He's old enough to be my-" she caught sight of the grin on Peter's face. "You're such a jerk." She slapped him lightly on the arm.

"Ow." He pretended to be in pain.

"I've missed you," she said quietly. She moved closer and curled her arms around him.

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly. "How is West?"

"West?" Claire was confused. "Oh. West and I are just friends."

"Oh." Peter frowned. "I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"Don't be," she said huskily. "I'm not." She played with the collar of his coat.

He stepped out of her embrace. "The taxi's here."

She smiled to stop her eyes from filling with tears. The taxi pulled up and Peter helped her inside.

"Pete," her voice floated out of the open window.

"Yeah?"

"I'm . . . I'm happy for you."

"Thanks."

Claire watched him from the back seat of the taxi as he gave a quick wave and was gone. _"I can't believe I'm losing you."_

**Claire: **_The return flight was a blur. One minute I was in Dublin, the next I was back in Paris on West's doorstep. I stood in the drizzling rain, my bottom lip trembling as I finally let the tears come. I don't remember much of that night, but the following weeks were very dark indeed. _

* * *

_**In the next chapter of Volume Six: No Ordinary Morning: **A family member in peril leads to an astonishing discovery that will rock the Petrelli family to the very core. _


	22. Volume Six: No Ordinary Morning

**No Ordinary Morning**

Late Spring 2013:

_**Claire:**Everyone faces challenges in their lives. By the time I was Twenty Two I figured I'd had just about a whole lifetime full. However, my world was about to be forever changed by a revelation that no one saw coming._

* * *

"Can I get you a drink?"

Claire Petrelli stared curiously at the attractive stranger next to her. He was in his mid to late thirties; athletic with a boyish smile that was hard for any woman to resist.

He raised his eyebrows when she didn't reply. "I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself. I'm Victor Armstrong."

Claire suddenly remembered her manners. "Claire Petrelli." She was a little awestruck at being picked up at 30000 feet. "Sorry. I'm not used to all this. I don't normally travel first class."

"You must be Nathan's Petrelli's daughter?"

She cringed inwardly. "Yes, do you know my Father?"

"By reputation only."

Claire chuckled. "Yes. I would like a drink, thank you."

"Good." He gestured to the nearby steward. "Two Bacardi's please."

Claire found herself admiring his clean-cut face and pleasant grey eyes.

"So, Claire. What brings you to New York?"

"I'm going home actually." Claire found herself chatting easily to the amiable Victor Armstrong and their conversation lasted through an in-flight meal and several more drinks. She shared memories of her time in Paris and learnt that he was the founder of CronoTech, a company that specialised in the manufacture and development of medical equipment. He also had a multitude of investments in all kinds of business both in America and Europe. He was polite and interested in her aspirations to be an investigative journalist. The flight time sped by as they enjoyed each others company.

"It was nice to meet you, Claire Petrelli," Victor took her hand and kissed it softly.

Claire blushed at the farewell. "And you."

He pushed a business card into her hand. "If you ever need anything, just call."

Silently, Claire nodded. She flicked the card between her fingers marvelling at something as simple as the meeting of two people from different spheres of life. The feeling was cut short when her mind was filled with an image of Peter. His hair lifting gently in the breeze, dark eyes caressing hers. The mere thought of seeing him again sent shivers down her spine. She longed to feel the touch of his skin against hers. Then, as suddenly as her heart soared it came crashing down as she remembered the sight of Peter's lips on Caitlin's.

* * *

The silence was making Claire nervous. Peter had met her at the airport and was now driving her home. He had been behaving strangely the entire time. He was distant, seemingly distracted and there was something in his manner that Claire just couldn't put her finger on. The very energy of him was awry.

"Pete, is everything okay?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't it be?" His smile was forced.

"No reason. I just . . ." her voice trailed off, "never mind." She gave up and stared out the window. _"What's his problem?"_

"Is it Caitlin?" she asked cautiously.

"No."

"Is she here? . . . In New York I mean?"

"No. She'll be over in a few weeks."

As silence resumed it's hold over them, Claire pondered his words. _"I'll never be able to spend time alone with him once she arrives."_

"When did we stop talking?" she asked.

He frowned at her. "What do you mean? We talk."

"But, not like we used to. I mean you never told me you were going to be in Ireland last month."

"It all happened pretty quickly. Mohinder and I needed to find Claude urgently for a . . . an assignment we were working on. It wasn't intentional, it just happened."

"What about Caitlin?"

"What about her?" The irritation was building in his voice; it covered his guilt well.

"Well, you never told me you met her before your last trip to Ireland."

"Should I have?"

"Well, it was just a surprise that's all."

"So I met her a few years ago, what's the big deal? We barely spoke two words to one another."

"I guess I just miss the way our friendship used to be and I-" she stopped abruptly when she saw a thick white mist wafting from under the front of the jeep.

"Damn it, " Peter groaned as he began pulling over to the side of the road. "Sorry, this shouldn't take long." He slammed the door with unwarranted aggression.

Claire followed, sticking her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "We should be able to let each other anything, right?"

"Sure." He lifted the bonnet releasing a rush of hot steam.

"I think honesty is the key to having a good relation, ah," she stammered, "friendship."

His dark eyes shot towards her. "Uh, okay."

"We've kind of drifted the last year and now that I'm back, for good, I want you-"

"Ow, damn it." Peter's reactions were lightening quick as he withdrew his hand from the radiator. He stood with harsh eyes, cursing the pain.

"Here." Claire sprang into action. "Let me see." She grabbed at his hand and pulled him towards her. Gently, she opened it. They both peered as the blistered skin faded and healed. An electric feeling whipped through them as they connected.

"It's," he began, "It's always quicker when you're near."

Her wide green eyes swept from his hand up his muscular torso to his weary face. Their eyes met and Claire's heart instantly began hammering in her chest.

"I want to . . . I mean I need for us to be completely honest with one another, Pete."

There was a slight glisten in his eyes as she continued.

"Since, I've been away I've realised that there are some things that shouldn't be taken for granted. I feel like there is so much between us that is unspoken and now I'm ready to-"

"Monty is sick." His voice was hoarse as he blurted out the words. Relief flooded his veins as the weight was lifted from his chest. Yet, almost instantly he braced himself for her reaction.

"Sick?" Claire echoed, dropping his hand. Peter nodded as he started to fill in the events leading up to discover of his nephew's life threatening illness.

"Leukaemia," she choked on the word a few minutes later. All thoughts of Peter suddenly pushed to the far recesses of her mind.

Peter nodded gravely. "ALL. Acute Lymphocytic Leukaemia . . . or something."

_"Monty. My sweet little Monty. Why?" _Questions raced through her mind. "When?"

"The initial diagnosis was only a few days ago."

"A few days?" she spat. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Nathan and Heidi thought it better to wait until you were home. They wanted to tell you in person."

Claire nodded her head in understanding. _"First Peter, now Monty. God, what's next?" she asked herself silently. _

Peter's eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I guess." She massaged her right temple. Jet lag was setting in. "It's just a bit of a shock."

"I know." He clenched his jaw closed. "I just keep thinking. What if I had the power to heal?"

"Don't torture yourself, Pete."

"But all these powers I have. What better reason to have them than saving a child's life?"

"Everything happens for a reason. Look at you and me."

Their eyes lingered again. "You must know someone with the ability to heal."

Peter turned and put both hands on the car. "If only it were that simple," he paused when he saw her confused expression, "Healers are very rare. Neither Mohinder or I have met any in the last four years. Their powers fluctuate, so even if we could find one, it would hardly guarantee a cure. Besides, there are other factors in play here. The media have been sniffing around the hospital for days."

"How are Nathan and Heidi coping with all this?" her eyes filled with tears as she imagined the anguish of her Father and Step-mother.

Peter shrugged. "As well as can be expected. It's been a big shock for us too."

"Now what?"

"I was supposed to take you back to the house so you could get some rest before we told you the news," he waved a hand over the simmering radiator and it cooled instantly, "but, I guess you won't hear of that now."

Claire shook her head vigorously.

"Hospital?"

"Please."

* * *

Nathan and Heidi did not reprimand Peter for telling Claire about Monty's illness. They seemed somewhat relieved they did not have to deliver the devastating news themselves. To Claire, they looked years older than she remembered. Her mind drifted as they greeted one another. Nathan's pale complexion, Heidi's red-rimmed eyes. The hugs lasted longer than normal. Angela was unusually quiet, letting her eldest son take charge of the situation. She was, no doubt, cursing the demise of Daniel Linderman all those years earlier.

"What's his prognosis?" Claire finally got up the courage to ask, unsure as to whether she even wanted to know the answer.

"Good." Heidi's eyes lit up for the first time since Claire had arrived. "He's already started a regime of high dose chemotherapy."

"The Doctor's are also thinking about the possibility of giving Monty a Bone Marrow Transplant," Nathan explained. "They want to test each of us to see if one of us is a match."

"Oh, okay. What does that involve?" Claire was buoyed by their knowledgeable responses.

"A special blood test."

"A blood test," Claire repeated.

"You'll let them test you, won't you Claire?" Heidi questioned her.

"Of course. Anything I can do to help."

* * *

Peter emerged from the consulting room absently rubbing the back of his hand.

Claire couldn't hide the worried look on her face.

He bent down and whispered in her ear. "Nothing to it."

The warmth of his breath did little to calm the knots in her stomach. She swallowed hard, stood up and entered the room. It had a sickly sterile smell that made her especially thankful for her power of regeneration.

A curvy red-headed nurse smiled and motioned for her to sit down.

Claire could feel the tiny beads of sweat on her forehead as she walked over. _"This is ridiculous. You can't get hurt and you're afraid of a little needle. Get it together, Claire. Imagine what Monty is going through."_

The nurse was acutely observant and had spotted Claire's apprehension a mile away. She smile as Claire sat down.

"Just take some deep breaths while I get everything ready."

"Okay," Claire gulped, determined not to lose her composure. "S-so how does this blood test work?"

"Well," the nurse began, "we take the blood from everyone in your family and examine it for proteins called Human Leukocyte Antigens or HLA's. These HLA's are found on the surface of nearly every cell in the human body.

Claire's focus shifted as she listened to the nurse.

"HLA's can be found on the surface of white blood cells. They help the immune system tell the difference between body tissue and foreign substances. Every person has an almost unique set of HLA's that they inherit from their parents. So roughly half of your HLA's should match your Father's and the other half your Mother's. There, that wasn't too bad, was it?"

"Huh? You've finished?" Claire had felt no pain.

"All done." The nurse dabbed at the blood on the back of Claire's hand. "Another one who doesn't need a band aid I see."

Claire opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off.

"It's okay. Many of the staff at The Centre are _special_." The nurse phased her hand through a nearby medical cabinet and removed a sleek scalpel. "There are no secrets here."

Claire let a relieved smile slip across her face. "Thanks."

"I just hope your brother gets better."

"Me too."

* * *

"How can that be?" Claire couldn't believe what she was hearing. The pallid walls of the small assessment room appeared to be closing around her. They had come in early to get the results of the blood tests and suddenly she was listening to her world falling apart.

"We've check and re-checked. I'm sorry Claire, but there is no way you are related to the Petrelli's." The Doctor shift uncomfortably in his seat as he delivered the news.

"I . . . I don't understand." Claire's eyes were wide with disbelief.

"Meredith," Nathan stated, gritting his teeth angrily.

Claire looked over at him, suddenly on the verge of tears. "How? . . . Are you telling me now that she could have lied to you?"

"Claire. Honey, calm down . . ."

"I will not calm down. How could you? Why didn't you . . . know this, find out sooner or something?"

"It was a different time. Things got complicated with, er, Meredith."

"Complicated? How could you not know?"

"I'm sorry Claire, really I am." Nathan reached out to touch her, but she pulled away.

"No, I don't believe this, I can't." Claire turned and quickly left the room.

Peter saw her exit and called after her. "Claire . . . Claire, wait. What's the matter?" He started to follow when a strong arm held him back.

"Let her go." Nathan commanded.

Peter was confused. "What's going on?" He looked back in the direction she had run. "Nathan?"

"The doctor says you're a match. You can be a donor."

"Oh my God. That's fantastic news." Peter was ecstatic until he realised that Nathan didn't seem to share in his happiness. "Is there some kind of problem?"

"No," Nathan said unconvincingly.

"What is it, Nate?"

"It's Claire," Nathan began.

Peter's heart skipped a beat.

"She's not my daughter."

Peter stood very still, unsure if had heard his brother correctly. _"What? How? Oh, Claire . . . No!"_ He turned a looked forlornly up the hallway again. "Someone should go after her." He turned back to his brother. "Nathan . . . NATHAN!"

Nathan sighed. It was all a little overwhelming. "I'll go. You stay here and talk to the doctors."

Nathan searched for Claire. Eventually, he found her vomiting into a rubbish bin near a side exit of the Oncology wing.

"Claire . . ." he kept his tone soft.

She coughed loudly before rising up to her full height and allowing him to take in her tear stained face.

"Claire," he called to her again.

She didn't move. Instead, she stared him down. "How could you?"

"I-I didn't know." His words were hollow.

"How could you?" she screamed again.

"I swear I didn't know." He moved swiftly enveloping her in his comforting arms.

Claire cried out as she slammed a fist against his chest. "Noooo . . ." Her voice racked with emotion as she fought to understand. "Oh, God. Why is this happening?"

He rocked her gently. "We'll figure this out, Claire. I promise you."

Her heartbroken cries were muffled against his body.

"It's going to be okay," he soothed. "Everything happens for a reason."

* * *

_**In the next chapter of Volume Six: Running Away: **The Petrelli's attempt to deal with Monty's treatment and the fallout from the shocking revelation that Claire is not Nathan's daughter. _


	23. Volume Six: Running Away

**Running Away**

Summer 2013:

_**Peter: **The past Summer was incredibly difficult for the family. Monty's illness, the revelation that Nathan is not Claire's biological Father; it was all a lot to deal with. Monty progressed well with his chemo and the Doctors pushed ahead with plans to give him a Bone Marrow Transplant; using my bone marrow. Initially, Claire seemed withdrawn. I guess she needed some time to come to terms with truth. None of us knew what to say, Nathan most of all. There he was, one of the most powerful men in America, and his family was falling apart at the seams. I did not envy him. I tried hard concentrate on putting the family first and ignored the nagging doubts I had about my engagement to Caitlin. I loved her and yet part of me rejoiced at the news that Claire was not my niece. I could, however, have handled the whole situation much better than I did._

"Good Morning, Nathan," Dr Micheal Coleman, Monty's Oncologist, greeted him as they met to discuss the days events.

"Micheal," Nathan acknowledged as they shook hands.

"Heidi . . . Peter," Dr Coleman smiled as they filed into the room. "No Claire today?"

"She's, ah . . . She couldn't make it today," Nathan attempted to explain her glaring absence.

"Oh. Well. This is my colleague, Dr Elizabeth Bell." He turned and introduced them to a stern looking woman of about forty. "She will be assisting with Peter's procedure today."

"Thank you so much." Heidi stepped forward and took the other woman's hands in hers. Elizabeth's face softened as their eyes met.

Dr Coleman cleared his throat as he seated himself behind the desk in his small office. "I thought we should just do a brief run through of what we will be doing today, in case you have any questions. Now, don't hesitate to ask. Our role is to guide everyone through what is often a very challenging day. As you know, Monty has been on high dose of chemotherapy and radiation to help . . ."

Dr Coleman's words faded into the background as Peter found himself staring at an empty chair across the room. The chair that was meant for Claire. _"Where are you, Claire? I need you."_

"Peter?"

"What? Oh, I'm sorry." Peter snapped quickly out of his trance and realised that the worried eyes of everyone else in the room were on him.

"Do you have any questions about the procedure?" Dr Coleman asked again.

He shift uncomfortably in his seat. "No."

"Right. Now, where was I?" Dr Coleman wondered aloud. "Yes. Once Peter's cells have been harvested we will start Monty's transplant . . ."

Peter phased out again. His mind drifting back to Claire. Images floated through his mind. The moment they first met. Kirby Plaza. Her first night in New York. _"It all seems so long ago." _The meeting ended and together they were escorted towards the hospital room that was to be his during his brief stay_._The whole time Peter's mind was on Claire. The beautiful golden haired Cheerleader. The girl he had believed was his niece. The woman he had grown to love. He wrestled with his conscience as they moved him into a sterile operating room. She was always on his mind. Every day, hour, minute and second. He breathed to love her and now, lying before the knife, he had the sudden realisation that if something went wrong, he might never get to tell her how he truly felt. For the first time in a long time, Peter Petrelli was scared of something. Losing Claire forever. Her image floated hauntingly before his eyes as he was lost to the blackness.

* * *

Peter's distant behaviour had not gone unnoticed. Nathan knew exactly what, _or whom, _was on his brother's mind. He politely excused himself after they wheeled Peter into the operating room. He slipped silently though a fire exit and up to the roof. Finally sure he wouldn't be seen, he purposefully pushed himself off the roof and into the sky. He flew quickly towards the Petrelli Estate.

Claire was tidying her room when Nathan silently entered.

Her pale green eyes lifted and met his. "I know why you're here." She sat slowly on the edge of her bed.

"Good. Then you'll come with me?"

She rolled her head to the side and looked away. "I can't."

"Why not?" He moved to side beside her.

"I'm . . . It's just something I'm going through right now," Claire sighed, her eyes filling with tears.

"We're all going through something and that's why we need you. Now more than ever."

"Things have changed, Nathan. I feel like I've been living a lie and . . . I don't know who I am anymore."

"You are Claire Petrelli and you are part of this family. Those test results make no difference to us. We need you . . . Pete needs you."

Her jaw clenched suddenly. "I'm so angry at her. I can't believe she would do this to you . . . and to me. Everyone went out of there way to make me feel me like I was part of the family. Then to find out now . . . It's like some sick twisted joke."

He put a protective arm around her shoulder. "I wish there was something I could say that would explain her actions."

"It's the same with Monty's illness. I keep expecting to wake up any moment."

"I want to tell you everything is going to be okay, Claire," his voice was strained, "but, I don't know what the future holds. I just know that I want Monty to get better-"

"That makes two of us," she sniffed.

"And," Nathan continued, "I want you to be part of this family. There is nothing anyone could say or do to make me stop loving you like you were my own."

Claire wiped the tears from her pretty face. "Thanks. You don't know what it means . . . to hear you say that . . ."

"Here for you. Always." He stood and offered her his hand. "Now are you coming?"

Claire looked unsure for a moment.

"C'mon. I promise to get you there in style."

"Okay." _"If only he knew how many times I've been flying with Pete . . ."_

* * *

She was there when he opened his eyes. The image was blurry, but unmistakeably Claire. Relief flooded through him.

"Hey," she greeted him softly.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. He frowned, still groggy from the anaesthetic.

"It'll wear off soon," she promised, "they had to give you a little more than normal." She stroked the side of his face.

He closed his eyes to better appreciate her delicate touch and the sound of her voice. A wave of her sweet perfume washed over him and he was sure his heart would burst.

"Claire . . ." he spoke a few minutes later.

"I'm right here." She squeezed his hand.

"Monty?"

"He's in recovery. Nathan and Heidi are with him."

Peter closed his eyes again. Several minutes passed.

He licked his lips. "You have no idea what your being here means to me."

A lump formed in her throat. "I'm sorry I wasn't there this morning. I still need some time to process . . . everything."

"I know. Things are a bit crazy right now," he cleared his throat. "I can't believe you're not my-"

"I know."

"Kind of weird huh?"

"Yeah."

A shadow appeared in the doorway. They both turned to see Caitlin appear in the doorway. A sudden surge of loyalty hit Peter square in the chest. He loosened his grip on Claire's hand. He felt her hand tense and she pulled away. He instantly missed her reassuring touch.

"Caitlin?" he murmured hoarsely.

"I caught an earlier flight," her accent floated through the air.

Caitlin's sudden appearance made Claire understandably awkward. She stood up to offer her the chair. "I-I should go."

"No," Peter answered quickly, "You don't have to-"

"It's okay." Claire found herself staring longingly at his hand. "We'll talk later. Right now I think you should be with your girlf-fiancee." Claire cursed the way she had stumbled over the words as she left.

Peter felt the pressure in his chest increase as he watched her leave. _"Just say the words and she's yours," his inner voice counselled him._ Somewhere inside he heard the dull echo of hollow laughter. Peter looked at Caitlin's smiling face as she sat down beside him. _"If only it was that simple." _He pushed himself upwards.

"Claire . . . Wait!" He jogged after her.

"Yeah?" Her shoulder length blonde hair whipped as she turned expectantly.

"I just want you to know that, ah, this doesn't change anything. Our relationship. How I feel about you . . . It's not going to change."

Claire fought back tears. "Neither," she whispered. _"Dear God, just make this feeling go away."_

Suddenly contemplating the effect the last few days events might have had on her; he studied her closely. "Are you okay?"

She gave an unconvincing nod as a tear slipped down her right cheek. He reached out an gently cupped her face, wiping away the tear as he did so.

Claire struggled to keep herself from falling into his arms. "You should um, probably get back to Caitlin. She flew all this way."

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked gently.

"Fine. I'll _be_ fine. Go . . ."

"Alright. But, I'm here for you."

Silently, her eyes lingered as he disappeared up the hallway. _"But that's just it, you're not." _She walked briskly until found herself alone in a bathroom. She lent over the sink and gazed at her reflection. _"It's time to get past this. He's getting married. He's in love with someone else." _She closed her eyes slowly and stood perfectly still as small wet tears slipped down her face. Blinded by the water in her eyes she reached into her bag for a tissue and instead pulled out a pale blue business card. She stared at it curiously. _"It's time to let go." _

* * *

_**Claire: **As time went on I began to find it more and more difficult to function as a member of the Petrelli family. I was desperately trying to keep it together for Monty. Nathan and Heidi were too preoccupied to realise I was thoroughly distracted. Caitlin's presence made me feel like an impostor. A stranger in the house I had come to call home. Unable to constantly pretend everything was okay I moved out of the mansion. I had no job, so the pool house was as far as I got. Even so I was confident that putting some distance between us would fix everything. It didn't._

Claire was washing some dishes in the sink after a meal one night when Caitlin approached her.

"Thank you for dinner, Claire." Her accent was charming, but Claire couldn't stand it.

Claire gave a half hearted smile. "Peter is the one you should be thanking. I would be nothing in the kitchen if it weren't for him." She continued washing, keen to avoid Caitlin's gaze.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Caitlin asked politely.

"No," Claire answered quickly.

"Oh, okay." Caitlin started to leave and then stopped. "You . . . You don't like me do you?"

Claire stopped and turned to face her. "I have no idea what you mean." She tried to appear casual, wondering if she was truly that transparent.

"Peter talks so much about you so much and-"

"I'm sorry." Claire frowned at Caitlin's words. "I just have a lot on my mind at the moment."

Caitlin nodded. "I wanted to ask you . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Will you be my bridesmaid?"

"Bridesmaid?" Claire echoed. The mere thought of watching Peter marry someone else brought her to the verge of collapse. She steadied herself against the bench.

"I was hoping it would help us get to know each other better."

"Sure," Claire replied slowly. _"She's so nice it's nauseating." _"Would you excuse me a minute . . . I just need to . . . ah, I'll be right back."

Claire's chest heaved as she fled from the light of the kitchen. She stumbled into the garden. Running desperately to try and fight the growing tightness in her chest. She collapsed onto the park bench. Finally alone. The seat was her favourite place in the whole garden. She always came here to be alone; to think. Tonight, she came to forget. To forget her past and the anguish of her present.

"Mind if I sit?" Peter's quiet voice startled her.

She stared at him. "_How is it that he always manages to find me when I just want to be alone?" _

"Are . . . Are you okay?"

"I . . . go ahead." She motioned for him to join her.

He positioned himself carefully, before turning to her with questioning eyes.

She smiled weakly. "I don't," she sighed, "I don't know who I am anymore."

He took her hand. "No one expects you to be okay with this. It's just . . ." he searched for the right words. "I don't know what to do or say or . . ."

"Ever since I found out I was adopted all I wanted to be part of a real family. I finally thought I was . . ."

"You are."

"But, I'm not. My real father is out there somewhere. I might have other Brothers and Sisters or . . . Uncles." Neither of them could make eye contact. "My memories . . . Everything is so messed up."

"I miss you, Claire," he paused, somewhat flustered by his confession, "what I mean is . . . I . . . We don't spend much time together anymore."

"I need some time. To get me head around all of this. I don't know how to _be . . . _around any of you, anymore."

"It'll get better." He squeezed her hand tightly. "I promise."

He pulled her closer, wanting nothing more in that moment than to take her into his arms and hold her.

Her vision was suddenly hazy, her heart pounding erratically in her chest. "I ah, I should . . ." Claire pulled away from his grasp. Now desperate to put distance between them before her secret was revealed.

"Claire . . . Wait!" She heard his foot steps behind her before they stopped abruptly.

Peter was torn. He wanted, no he needed, to make Claire understand. He would have followed her if not for the silhouetted image of Caitlin, his fiancee, appearing in the window before him.

_"Let her go. Just let her go." His inner voice counselled. "You know this is how it has to be."_

* * *

_**In the next chapter of Volume Six: Change One Thing, Change Everything: **Peter's reaction to Claire's new relationship with Victor threatens his own._


	24. Vol6: Change One Thing,Change Everything

**Change One Thing, Change Everything.**

Summer 2013:

_**Claire: **I sought comfort from the turmoil of my life with Victor Armstrong. I had called him in a weak moment and was surprised to find out he was still in New York. We met for a drink that led to dinner and somewhere along the way I managed to pour my heart out to him. The whole story, minus the part about having superpowers. He was exactly what I needed. Gracious and kind; he listened to every word. He helped me begin to get over the loss of my place in the Petrelli family. He travelled a lot, but after that night we started to see a whole lot more of each other. I couldn't possibly have known the effect my new relationship would have on Peter._

"She's not a kid anymore, Pete."

"How can you not have a problem with it?" Peter's eyes were wild with frustration.

Nathan gave his brother a strange look. "Whether we like it or not Claire has always done things her own way-"

"But-" Peter interjected.

"And, as much as I dislike the idea of her dating Victor Armstrong, I don't have any say in the matter."

"Sure you do. You're . . . You're . . ."

"Not her Father anymore." Nathan raised an eyebrow.

"I know that."

Nathan stood up to face his younger brother. "I think you need to look at where this is coming from."

"What?"

"This need to interfere with her life. It has gotten you in trouble before."

"I don't have-" Peter stopped short, "I'm just concern about her that's all. What do we really even know about this guy?"

"Relax, Pete. I'm sure she knows exactly who she's getting involved with."

"I'm going to talk to her."

"Leave it be. She needs our support right now. The last few weeks have been incredibly hard on her."

Peter knew in his heart that his brother was right. Doubt crept into the corners of his mind. _"Why does this bother you so much if you only want her to be happy?"_

* * *

_**Peter:** Why is it that sometimes no matter what we do, we always hurt the ones we love the most?_

Peter's heart was cold, despite the warmth of the night. Sleep no longer came easily to him. By contrast, Caitlin slept soundlessly beside him. Blissfully unaware of the torment he felt. _"How can I love you and still miss her so much?" he asked himself. _He closed his eyes and imagined she was Claire. Even after all this time, he was certain he could still smell her perfume on his pillow. _"No!" _He fought the urge to cry out her name. He sat up angrily. With clenched fists, he walked into the moonlight streaming in his window. The light was a scythe that cut his face in two. Movement caught his eye and he turned to see Claire and Victor walking up the path to the pool house. His eyes grew darker as he surveyed the scene from above. The couple took one more lingering kiss before Victor departed. He had given her time, but could no longer tolerate the absence she left in his life. He caught the glimpse of a smile on her face as she turned away from him. Finally, it was too much for him to bear.

Claire stood in the doorway, lost in her thoughts, when she was suddenly confronted by Peter.

"Pete? Oh," she placed a hand to her chest. "You scared me. How did you-?"

"Can I come in?" he was breathing heavily.

"Of course."

"Have a seat." She eyed him suspiciously as he tried to appear casual. "So . . ."

"So . . . ?"

"Do you want a drink?"

"Sure . . . How was your date?" he asked.

"You don't have to do this you know." She selected two wine glasses from the cupboard and set them down on the counter.

"What?"

She raised her eyebrows. "It's getting kind of old . . . The whole protective Uncle routine," the words slipped effortlessly from her mouth before she had the chance to realise what she was saying.

Peter's eye's bulged. "I'm not your Uncle anymore."

"I know." She avoided his gaze. "So, what are you doing here?" Her hand was shaky as she poured wine into the glasses.

He shrugged and made another uncomfortable attempt to look casual. "I just wanted to chat. You know, see how you are."

"Victor took me out for an early birthday dinner. It was very nice. There are you satisfied?"

"He's not joining us next week?" Peter was a little too relieved.

Claire suppressed a little smile. "No. He's going to be in Dubai."

"Oh. That's a shame cos I was really looking forward to-"

"No you weren't." She handed him a glass and took a seat in the chair opposite.

"Okay, so maybe I wasn't."

"He's a nice guy, Pete."

"I'm sure he is."

"Why are you really here?" she gave him another suspicious glance.

"I don't . . . I feel like I never see you anymore," he blurted out.

"What? That's crazy. We see each other all the time."

"I guess. It's just since you moved out of the house and . . . Since you started seeing Victor . . ."

Claire froze. "No. No no no. I'm not to blame for this. If you weren't always off with little Miss Perfect picking china patterns or gravy boats or whatever the hell it is you do with her, then maybe you would realise I have a life of my own." Her blood boiled. _"The nerve . . ."_

"Caitlin has nothing to do with this. I only ever want to see you happy Claire."

"And that's why you came here?" She thrust her wine glass down and walked outside. He followed, ignoring her remark.

"I just don't ever see how a man like that could ever make you happy."

"It's getting old Pete, really old." Light from the pool reflected the unhappiness in her eyes. A mirror of the loneliness in her heart.

"What is?"

"This whole 'No one is good enough for you routine'. Newsflash: Nathan is not my Father, you're not my Uncle and I can see whoever I want to."

"Fine. Go ahead and screw up your life. Sorry for caring!"

Claire gave an angry squeal. "Screw up my life? I never asked for any of this. I ne-never wanted any of THIS! But, this is what I got and, I don't know about you, but I'm just trying to make the best of it."

"What would you have me do?" he demanded. "Go back in time and fix this?"

"Maybe . . . I-I don't know," she said exasperatedly.

"I can't do that, Claire . . . You know I can't. It just wouldn't be right. Change one thing and it could change everything. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. All those lives I've saved, hundreds of lives."

"Don't I deserve a little happiness, Peter? After everything that has happened to me. Don't I deserve someone who will love and cherish me? It's all I've ever asked."

"Of course-"

"I thought it was you," she cut him off.

"What?"

"When I met you. I thought you were going to be the one who loved me unconditionally and yet somehow when I'm around you all I always end up getting hurt."

"Don't make me responsible for your bad choices, Claire."

"God, would you just listen to yourself? You say you care, but you don't. Any time we get close to the truth you just throw it all back in my face, saying it's my fault we ended up here."

"That is NOT true."

"Then what do you want from me?" she pleaded with him. "Tell me please, because I'm getting sick you lecturing me and blaming me for all the problems in our relationship."

"If our relationship is such a problem for you then maybe we shouldn't have one anymore." His words swirled around them, before swiftly crushing her heart to dust.

Her eyes narrowed coldly. "I th-think you should go-"

"Claire, I did-" he started to protest, realising the true impact of his words. The pure agony and disgust in her green eyes reaching into his soul.

"Just go," her voice a menacing whisper.

Claire closed her eyes and fought the urge to cry. _"I won't let you do this to me again."_ She took a deep breath and held it. The warm Summer night air surrounded and supported her. He was gone when she opened her eyes. She sighed thankfully as she made her way inside. She moved slowly to lock the door and close all the curtains. She undressed quickly before finally collapsing onto her bed. A sharp pain in one of her fingers made her sit up. Peter's ring. She stared at it, running her fingers back at forth across it. The ring was cold to the touch, despite the fact that she never took it off. Large wet tears dropped silently from her eyes. She stood up pulling the ring off as she went. She held it up to the light, taking in the design for the last time. _"I'm finally going to be free of you." _Satisfied, she slipped the into a box and placed it in her top drawer. She closed the drawer, wiped her eyes and vowed never to look at it again.

_**Peter:** I told myself it was better that way. Better for me? No. Better for Claire. She deserved so much more than me. I will never forgive myself for leaving her there. I walked away that night a coward. A coward for realising that I was still in love with Claire; a coward for hiding the truth. It was a secret that almost killed me. _

* * *

_**In the final chapter of Volume Six: Such Sweet Sorrow: **Claire and Victor have a surprising secret. Peter believes Claire is lost to him forever. Will she forgive him when he takes the opportunity to apologise?_


	25. Volume Six: Such Sweet Sorrow

**Such Sweet Sorrow**

Summer 2013:

**Peter: **_Claire had been avoiding me for weeks. I had pushed her from my life and only had myself to blame. _

"Hello?" Peter Petrelli called out a greeting as he arrived home. "Anyone?" His voice bounced around him as there was no reply. He sighed and continued through the entrance way towards the kitchen. He placed his satchel on the bench top and headed for the fridge. He was searching for a refreshing beverage when a sound stopped him. Running water. Now aware that someone else was home, he moved towards the noise. It was coming from the downstairs bathroom. The door swung open as he reached out to knock. He was suddenly face to face with an ashen-faced Claire.

Her wide eyes met his with surprise. "S-Sorry. I didn't realise anyone was home." She slipped past him.

"I'm . . ." The words caught in his throat as he watched her rapidly disappear from view.

He stepped into the bathroom and frowned at his reflection. _"Hi Claire. How are you? Yeah, that would have been better . . ." _"Fool" he spat the words at himself in anger. "She hates you." _"It wouldn't be the first time . . ." _He sighed and closed his eyes. _"Get it together, Peter." _He turned to go when something caught his eye. A partially obscured box in the rubbish bin. The words on the packaging jumped out at him. Clearblue Easy. Soft dark hair flopped into his eyes. Swiftly, he tucked the wayward strand behind his ear and focused his vision. Positive. "Oh Claire," he murmured her name, a million thoughts racing through his mind.

* * *

Victor Armstrong's eyes widened as he took in her reply. "Are we really doing this?"

Claire Petrelli nodded, unable to wipe the grin from her face. "Yes."

He swept her up into his arms, twirling her lithe body slowly. "You are truly amazing," he breathed.

Suddenly something that was only casual had become something more. It was then that Claire felt it. That small tingle in the very pit of her stomach. A growing happiness. Her life was finally moving forward and she was moving on.

* * *

**Claire: **_Peter and Caitlin's engagement party was held in late August. With trepidation I prepared myself for an evening of avoiding Peter, but knowing he would find out my secret eventually._

Claire took a deep breath and held it. She slid the silky ivory dress over her shoulders, letting the fabric skim down her slender figure. She adjusted the plunging neckline to make sure it was covering all that it needed and revealing everything it should. Delicately, she smoothed the fabric across her lower abdomen. She posed in front of her full length mirror and admired the way the dress clung to the curves of her bust and hips.

"Perfect," she murmured. She slipped her feet into a pair of ivory heels and left the bedroom in search of Victor.

He was fidgeting with his bow-tie in a hallway mirror when she approached. His face lit up when he saw her. "You look gorgeous, Claire. Wow."

She smiled nervously at his compliment. "Thanks." She took his arm and together they headed out to join the party.

Peter was alone when Claire and Victor entered the ballroom. Guiltily, he ogled the handsome couple from a distance. Feelings of inadequacy rose through him as he observed Victor's tall stature. But, it was Claire with whom his tawny eyes spent the most time. Her beauty was so jaw dropping it caused him physical pain just to look at her. He massaged his heart through his tuxedo jacket, unable to tear his eyes away. _"I'm going to Hell." _

The number of guests swelled rapidly and both Peter and Claire managed to successfully mingle without coming into close contact with the other. Peter busied himself accepting the many congratulations that were offered. For a time he was able to forget about Claire, but it would not last.

"Good evening everyone. Welcome." A hush fell over the guests as Nathan stood posed to speak, champagne flute in hand. "I want to thank each and every one of you for being here tonight to celebrate the engagement of Peter and Caitlin. I also want to take this opportunity to announce that as of today, my youngest son, Monty is officially in remission."

A pleasant murmur spread through the crowd at the news. Relief flooded through Claire no matter how many times she heard the words. She smiled at Nathan as he continued.

"But, of course, tonight belongs to Peter and Caitlin. So, please join me in wishing them every happiness in their life together." He raised his glass to the smiling couple. "Peter and Caitlin."

"To Peter and Caitlin," the words echoed around the room as the party guests participated in the toast. Moments later the music and celebration resumed.

Peter finally gave in and let his darkened eyes search the room until he found Claire in the crowd. She was hold hands with Victor, oblivious to everyone around her. A swirl of anger, guilt, regret and lust churned inside his stomach. His envious eyes travelled the length of her body until they came to rest on her stomach. _"A baby . . . Victor's baby."_ His sorrowful heart wept at the realisation she would never be his.

* * *

"Peter, is everything okay?" Caitlin asked as he spun her around the dance floor.

"Of course," he stated, confidently masking the mournful feeling in his soul.

"It's just you seem a little," she searched for the right word, "troubled."

He frowned and tried to laugh it off. "You know I hate these parties."

Caitlin nodded silently, fearing there was more to his recent puzzling behaviour than he was letting on. She felt him stiffen in her arms and followed his gaze towards a woman sitting alone. The ravishing blonde in the stunning ivory dress. Discontent churned in her stomach.

Claire sat alone at a table, taking small sips of water from a glass. Her eyes followed the couples on the dance floor. She would normally spend most of her time on the dance floor at a Petrelli party. It was her way of avoiding the monotonous conversation with other guests. Peter was the one who normally kept her company, but tonight she was trying her best to avoid any awkward confrontations. Victor was not as good a dancer as Peter, but he did his best. The crowd of dancing couples thinned and Peter and Caitlin came into view. Peter held his fiance close. Both were smiling, eyes on each other as they moved as one. The picture of love. Surprisingly, there was no sadness or regret when Claire looked at them. Just an emptiness. _"The sooner I am out of here the better." _She looked away, unaware of the disquiet she had caused between the loving couple.

* * *

"You can't keep it from them forever, Claire," Victor lectured.

"I know that," she said, "It's just that tonight probably isn't the best time."

"The best time for what?" Heidi asked. She, Peter and Caitlin had suddenly appeared next to them.

Claire hesitated, fearing the reaction to her news.

"She's pregnant," Peter blurted out, unable to contain himself any longer.

"What?" Claire swiveled her head to meet Peter's gaze.

"Claire?" Victor questioned her.

"What?" Claire demanded again, "I'm not pregnant."

"Give it up, Claire. I found the test." Peter leaned forward as he spoke, hands on his hips.

"Peter," Caitlin began, "maybe we should-"

"What test?" Victor interrupted. Confused, his eyes shot from Claire to Peter and back again. "Claire, what is this all about?"

Nathan approached with speed when he heard raised voices. "What's going on here?" he hissed.

"It's not Claire," Heidi said quickly, before anyone else could get a word in. Her blue eyes sparkled. "The test. It's mine."

Furious green eyes glared in Peter's direction. Caitlin shifted her weight, uncomfortably aware of the mounting tension.

"What test?" Nathan joined in the confusion.

"I'm pregnant," Heidi admitted. Caitlin nodded her agreement. Nathan grinned and pulled his wife close. It was a sudden and intimate embrace.

"See," Claire spat sarcastically, before turning to Heidi and Nathan, "I'm so happy for you!"

Peter was red-faced. He furrowed his brow. "I-I just thought . . ." _"Heidi! Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"_

Heidi smiled shyly as she pulled away from Nathan. Claire was also smiling as she moved to congratulate Heidi with a hug.

Caitlin pulled on Peter's arm. "I was _trying _to tell you . . ."

"Geez, Peter. You had me going for a while there." Victor was relieved the confusion had been resolved. "Congratulations."

"What was your news?" Heidi asked.

"Well," Victor cleared his throat, "I've asked Claire to move to Paris with me and she said yes."

"Oh Claire, that's wonderful news." Heidi's smile was genuine. "We'll miss you of course."

"I love Paris, but it wasn't a easy decision," Claire explained as she watched Nathan shake Victor's hand.

"You're moving?" Peter swallowed hard, a deep regret forming in his chest. He stood frozen, unable to speak, as his world took yet another blow. Claire ignored him as she chatted ecstatically with those around him. He withdrew himself rapidly from the group, leaving a worried Caitlin trailing behind.

* * *

_**Peter: **I had already made a complete fool of myself and I was about to do it again. I wanted her to stay; needed her to stay. She was moving on and had no reason to stay in New York. After all that had happened, I was still stupidly unable to give her that reason._

With the poise of a 1940s screen goddess, Claire stood alone on the balcony. Eyes into the sky. Peter stopped when he saw her. No matter how many times she took his breath away, he still found it so unexpected. He wondered if she was still angry at him. He wouldn't blame her if she was.

"Can you believe Monty's recovery?" he asked, quietly fearful of her reply. He carefully positioned himself at the railing next to her. It was the first time they had been alone in weeks. Her perfume wafted gently on the night air making him light headed.

She shook her head. "Barely. It's like a dream." She turned to face him. "It's because of you. Your blood."

"Who would have thought?" he mused.

"There is still so much we have to learn about our powers. Mohinder must be loving this."

"Yes. The sky's the limit in terms of what we can do with disease research now."

"I-I'm sorry. For before . . . _for-"_

She cut him off with a shrug of her shoulders. "It's okay."

A silence descended slowly between them. He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched her nervously. She had returned to looking back out into the dark night. Her golden hair fluttered softly on the breeze. In slow motion she turned back to him and he was suddenly reliving their history. Union Wells High, Claire's first New York Winter, Prom, Columbia, long distance phone calls, holding her in his arms as they slept, all the 'goodbyes' and the 'welcome homes'. Every moment he had loved her. Through the sorrow and the laughter, he had always loved her.

"Congratulations . . . Pete?" her green eyes were staring, searching his own.

"Sorry. I just lost myself _in you,_" he whispered huskily.

She closed her eyes slowly. "Don't-" she whispered.

"Why are you leaving?"

"My life is in Paris."

"When?" he choked.

"If you're thinking about the wedding, don't worry. I'll be back. I'll do everything I have to. Bridesmaid. All of it."

"But, why now?"

"Victor asked. I said said." Claire was very matter-of-fact. No emotion in her voice.

Peter gripped the railing and stared at the floor. "How did we get here?" he whispered.

"Pete-" her eyes betraying a sudden sympathy. She wanted to touch him. Hold him. Comfort him. She forced herself to hold back.

"If I could have said or done things differently, would you stay?"

"We tried, Pete. Whatever we had, it's gone."

"I'm sorry. For everything I ever said that hurt you, I'm so, so sorry, Claire."

"I know."

"Maybe, if you stayed. We could be friends again." Desperately, he fought his emotions. Searching for the right words, but they did not come.

"Don't do this to yourself." He watched her turn to leave.

"Claire. Wait. Please. I'm sorry. Whatever I have to do to make this better . . . I'll do it."

"But you can't do anything. Not this time."

"Why?"

She paused and turned her head back to him. "Because I'm already gone."

The beauty in ivory moved out of his reach, leaving only the sound her ivory heels fading into the distance. He was helpless as she left him for the last time.

**Peter: **_Twenty three years old and I can love her without fear. It is now a love that cannot be returned and only the guilt of our ruined relationship remains. _

* * *

**Peter: **_Claire's departure left me heartbroken. I tried to deny it and hide it from everyone, including myself. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened._

"I don't want to be the other woman in your life anymore, Peter. Whether she's here or halfway across the world, she's always going to be in your heart. I just can't compete with that anymore."

"Caitlin . . . Please don't."

"I have to do this, Peter. For both of us."

"I do love you."

"I know," she let her words hang in the air before quietly slipping out the door and into the waiting taxi.

Peter watched her leave. He thought about going after her, but his heart knew she was right. He loved Claire more than ever and he'd driven her out of his life. He only had himself to blame. He dropped slowly to his knees. Pale face and anguished eyes. Pain ripped through his veins as every cell in his body cursing him for his stupidity.

* * *

_**In the next chapter: Volume Seven: Secrets of the Heart: **Claire makes her choice. Will she return to Paris with Victor or realise she truly loves Peter and risk it all to stay with him in New York?_

**A/N: **In the next chapter we return to the cliffhanger from **Volume One: With Every Heart Beat. **Thanks for reading. Pip :)


	26. Volume Seven: Secrets of the Heart

**Secrets of the Heart**

2014:

"Pete," she softly began her reply. "After all that's passed between us I think I know you well enough to know your heart. I'm sorry about Caitlin. I'm sorry she left you heartbroken, but I don't want to be the girl that you break trying to fix the hole in your heart. I can't be THAT girl for you."

"I'm not asking you for something you can't give me. Since I found out that I'm not your Uncle, everything between us changed. I started falling in love with you all over again and I can't ignore my feelings anymore. You are my destiny, Claire."

"No," Claire said quietly, "I can't just drop everything to be with you, Peter. My career . . . Victor . . . It's just . . ."

"You don't love me," Peter said solemnly.

Old feelings were suddenly bubbling to the surface, adding to her confusion. "I'm not convinced you're doing this for the right reasons. " Her eyes filled with compassion. "I'm not giving up my life on some fantasy."

"Fantasy? I met you by believing in something fantastic, something so amazing and . . . That something was _you_."

"Meeting like that was . . . Fate. But, look at our lives now. Everyday we are hiding who we really are and for good reason."

"I don't care anymore. I need you in my life, Claire."

"It's just not that easy for me. What will everyone else think?"

"They can think what they want," he said stubbornly.

"Our Family? Our Friends? How on earth would you explain something like this?"

"Stop thinking about everyone else for once in your life and think about you."

"That's just my point, Pete. I am thinking about me."

"Either you want to be with someone or you don't."

"If only it were that easy for me." She swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of the bitter taste in her mouth.

"Why are you so afraid of taking a chance?"

"Afraid? I've been getting burned by men since I was sixteen. I'd like to keep you off that list."

"You know I would never hurt you."

"But you do. I know you don't mean to, but every time I'm near you . . . " She blinked back tears.

"So . . . That's it? This is what you want? . . . _Him?"_

She nodded. "Please, please understand. This is the best we can hope for, Pete. A normal life."

"Best for whom? Not me. I'm so sick and fucking tired of coming second with you."

"With me? What about you? I was your Niece, your best friend, and you drove me away. Now you're all alone and begging me to come back to you. If that's not second best I don't know what is!"

"Of course. I what was I thinking? What could I possibly offer you?" Peter couldn't disguise the hurt in his voice.

"Don't be like this," she scolded him. He started toward the doorway, thinking he had heard enough. "Pete! Wait! Please, we need to want to talk about this."

"Talk? I don't want to 'talk' okay. All we do is talk and it never gets us anywhere."

"Wait. Don't leave it like this," she pulled him back, "you once told me I was your best friend and that you loved me."

"I lied," he said coldly.

"Pete, please. I . . ." she pleaded with him in spite of his hurtful words.

"You what, Claire? Six months ago you were perfectly happy to give up on us. I see now that nothing has changed."

"Six months ago? You were engaged! You were getting married, in love with Caitlin. What was I giving up on? I wasn't even in your life anymore, so why now?"

"I made a mistake, okay. I didn't know what to do. Six months ago my heart was a secret, even from you . . . especially from you. I . . . Just . . . Stay. Please," he stammered.

"I can't do this," Claire slowly released her grip on his arm overwhelmed by his confession.

"Then at least you'll know . . ." his hazel eyes swirled with acceptance.

She couldn't speak. _"Know what?" she asked silently._

"I never loved her. At least, not like I love you." He slid silently from the room, leaving his final words to crash down around her.

* * *

_"I love you, Claire." _Peter's voice echoed around her. Images of him flashed behind her eyes. Claire couldn't sleep that night. She just lay there, playing out their fight over and over in her mind. Victor had returned to the suite only minutes after Peter had left. She had barely had anytime to process his words. The next morning she took a long hot shower and wept uncontrollably the whole time. When she eventually stopped, she hid her blotchy eyes with makeup and put on a happy face for Victor. The drive to the airport was excruciating. She loved her life and thought she was exactly where she was meant to be. But, as Peter's words floated through her head again, she couldn't help, but remember the events that had passed between them over the past few years.

"This can't be the end." She stepped out of the limo and into the cold. Her eyes reaching the waiting jet; ready to take her to Paris. Away from Peter. "I can't let this be the end."

Claire watched as Victor strolled across the tarmac towards the jet. "Victor," she called his name and jogged to catch up to him. He turned to face her.

"I . . . I can't come with you," she said with determination in her voice.

Victor stared at her a moment, taking in the sight of the beautiful woman with wind swept blonde hair. He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he hadn't heard what she had said. In his heart, he knew it was true. A woman as lovely and kind as Claire, could never have stayed in his life for long. He nodded, before putting a gloved hand on her shoulder.

"I understand."

"Thank you." Claire's eyes blinked away tears. "I'm so sorry."

"He's a lucky man," he said as Claire turned and hurried away. "Charles," he called out towards his driver. "Take Claire where ever she wants to go." Claire turned back towards him and mouthed 'thank you'. Victor watched sadly as she hurried towards the car and out of his life.

Claire fidgeted nervously the entire way to the Petrelli house. Over and over she tried to imagine what she was going to say. She stood on the doorstep and took a few deep breaths. She rang the buzzer and waited. An eternity passed before she remembered her spare key. Her almost blue fingers trembled as she struggled to open the door.

"Peter," her shrill voice echoed in the entrance, "Pete . . ." _"Oh God, please be here." _Her eyes started to well up as she went from room to room searching for him. The sound of her boots on the marble floor was echoing around her. "Pete . . ." She burst through the french doors and into the frozen garden to continue her search. She hurried through the snow, leaving small foot prints in her wake. Becoming more desperate by the minute, she failed to watched her step. The black ice caught her off guard and she over balanced; tumbling arse first into a cold puddle of muddy winter slush.

"Fuck." _"There's always someone home, why not now . . ."_

"Claire?" Peter suddenly appeared in next to her, a surreal, yet surprised look on his face.

"Pete!" She almost began crying at the mere sight of him.

"I saw the foot prints, and then you. I thought it was a dream," he noticed the distress in her eyes. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I didn't leave," she panted.

"I can see that. What are you doing here?" a smirk was forming on his handsome face, as he watched her struggle on the cold wet concrete.

"Are you going to help me up or not?" she asked angrily.

"Not until you tell me what you're doing here."

"I couldn't get what you said yesterday out of my head. I-I needed to ask you-" she broke off when suddenly she found herself being lifted off the ground. Peter held her securely against his broad chest. Within seconds they were seated on the park bench. Peter holding Claire in his arms.

"I'm all wet." She wriggled, but he held her firmly on his lap.

"I don't care," he said, the warmth of his breath hitting her gently in the face.

"I'm all dirty."

"I said I don't care. Now, what did you want to ask me?" His brown eyes lingered intently on her face.

Her stomach fluttered as she melted in his arms. "What did you mean when you said you were 'falling in love with me again?"

"Claire, there has never been a time since I met you, that I didn't love you." He laid his heart bare for her again. Only, this time she truly felt his meaning.

She inhaled sharply. "All those years?" Suddenly, his behaviour started making sense. "You've loved me all those years? But, you never . . . " her voice trailed off as a million thoughts rocketed through her mind.

He sighed. "I already know I'm the biggest fool in the Universe. I don't need you to remind me."

"Then I am the second biggest."

"Care to enlighten me as to what you're still doing here? In New York? I'm a little busy right now and-"

At last, the words he had longed to hear slipped from her mouth. "I love you," she said breathlessly.

The lop-sided smile widened, but he said nothing.

"Did you hear me? I said I'm in love with you, Peter Petrelli," she stated, growing impatient with his nonchalant manner.

"I heard you," his voice was more masculine than she remembered.

"And?"

"Just wanted to make you squirm for a bit." He watched her mouth fall open. "What about Victor?"

"I'm not in love with him.

"And your career?"

"I think I can be a journalist anywhere."

He gave no reply, instead he pulled her closer. She blinked as tiny snowflakes attached to her long eyelashes. She trailed her fingers across his forehead, sweeping a strand of his dark hair from his eyes. They gazed hypnotically at each other, before Peter finally tilted his head forcing their lips meet in a soft tender kiss. She rose up in his lap and pressed herself up against him as their kiss deepened. His body shuddered with a deep ache of desire and he struggled to stay in control. Claire moaned softly as his tongue deftly caressed her own. After a moment they parted, blissfully breathlessly.

It was Peter that spoke first. "I love you too, _Tex._" His hands cupped her face.

"It's cold. Can we go inside now?" she grinned at him.

"Sure. Hot chocolate?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Pancakes?"

"Oh God yes," she groaned.

She was light in his arms and he lifted her easily. "I'm never letting you go," he stated, "ever."

"What are we going to tell your family?" she wondered.

"I don't think we'll need to worry about that."

"Why?"

"Because, we're Peter and Claire." He winked at her before leaning in close and whispering in her ear. "It's just meant to be." He kissed her again and carried her away amid the shimmering snowflakes falling all around.

* * *

**A/N: Fini ~ Thanks for reading and a BIG thank you to all who have reviewed and kept me going over the past year! I look forward to sharing more Paire stories with you in future. Regards, Pip :)**


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